Fidelitas
by kali6
Summary: A DracoHermione story, with a bit of adventure and a lot of fighting. Based on the old potions class cliche. Don't hold it against me. Story is complete
1. Chapter One

Title: Fidelitas (1/?) version 3

Author name: Kali

Summary: A ploy of the teachers' to help the houses get along causes serious troubles when certain students' potions go wonky.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note: This is a work in progress attempting to analyze Draco and Hermione and to see if they can be friends. The Romance mentioned in the Category is in the distant future – I have to get them past wanting to kill each other.

I apologize for any major canonical errors I might have made, I've tried to stick to the books. I have tweaked the facts about the Maurader's Map though - I'm pretending that the map was returned to Harry when Crouch's deception was revealed.

Big thanks to my beta reader, Lanna, for her help and support. This never would have been posted without her.

~ Chapter One ~ 

"Oh grief," sighed Ron. "Potions already. I could have really used another few years before I had to go back into this class."

Ron, Harry and Hermione were hurrying through the hallways from History of Magic to the Potions classroom. It was the first day of classes for their fifth year and things had been moving along fairly well; a state which Ron attributed to the fact that they hadn't had to deal with Professor Snape until this moment.

"C'mon," said Harry. "Just treat it like swimming in really cold water. Y'know, plunge in really fast so we don't have time to dread it too much."

Ron grimaced at Harry, expressing his doubt. As they turned onto the staircase, Harry shrugged. There really was nothing he could do about Ron's pessimism, but he had been working so hard over the summer to keep his attitude positive that he didn't want to start being gloomy so early in the year. With all that had happened the previous spring, he was fairly sure that there were going to be a few events during the coming year more worthy of being upset about.

"Stop being so mopey," Hermione ordered. "Maybe this year Snape will have calmed down a little bit. I mean he's got other things on his mind, so maybe he won't be so busy being nasty to us."

"Yeah, or maybe he'll take out all that extra stress on Harry, and by extension, you and me," Ron replied.

"Well, you could at least look at it in a positive way, Ron. I mean, we've survived four years of the man having it out for us, at least there's only three more."

"Hermione, if I wanted cheering up, I'd ask for it. I just know he's going to try to make us miserable so I'm getting warmed up"

"Okay, fine," she huffed. "But I'm going to be open minded. Maybe things have changed. I mean, we know that he's not working against us really, so..."

She never got to finish whatever point she was trying to make. As they turned to enter the potions class, Draco Malfoy pushed past them with Crabbe and Goyle, his ever-present shadows, in his wake. Malfoy turned back to the threesome and sneered as they moved towards their desks.

"Ooops. Sorry Granger. Did I get in your way?"

"Don't worry Malfoy," she replied calmly. " I wouldn't expect anything less from a little snot like you."

Before Malfoy could reply, Professor Snape walked into the room calling for silence.

"All right. Sit down and get your things out. We have a lot of work to do this year, and a lot of catching up from last year to get through before we can even begin. So I expect everyone to work very hard, and I will crack down severely on anyone who impedes the class's progress. Understood?"

He glared around the room. The students looked at each other nervously before turning their full attention to their teacher.

"Now, we will be beginning this year with a fairly simple potion onto which we will be building several variations. For the effects of this potion to be truly noticeable, we will need to divide the class up into different working groups. I have already done so and will read your pairings off as follows. Please shift so that you are sharing a desk with your new partner. Crabbe and Weasley."

Harry and Hermione looked sympathetically at Ron as he grimaced and picked up his things to move to the desk the professor indicated. Snape continued listing off pairings and students shuffled to their newly assigned seats. Harry looked up when he heard his name. "Goyle and Potter." Hermione winced as Harry moved to sit beside the Neanderthal-like Slytherin. She held her breath as Snape continued through the alphabet, but nearly choked when she heard "Malfoy and Granger."

Draco felt as though he'd given himself whiplash, jerking his head around to look at Snape. He must have been hearing things. The professor would never have paired him with _her. But as he looked again, he saw that Granger had collected her things and was moving towards his desk. Oh, this was too much. He put his hand up to get Snape's attention._

"What do you want, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco was speechless for a second. Snape had never spoken to him in that tone of voice before. He'd always treated Draco like a favorite.

"Mr. Malfoy, unless you have something important to say, I'm going to continue this lesson so that we can get through everything we have to cover this year."

"Um... uh... it was nothing Professor." Draco stammered.

"Good. Now class, today we are going to work on a fairly basic potion called the Amicibilitas Elixir. It is a base point for many more complex potions, as it's primary effects are to create a sense of friendship or openness between the person to whom the potion is administered and the person who brews it. As you can tell, I'm sure, I've paired you in such a way that it will be fairly obvious whether the potion has its desired effect."

Which seemed a safe assumption, since there was pretty much no way that Draco could see himself being friends with Granger. And from the look on her face, he could tell that she felt the same way. He sneered at her look of disgust, then turned his attention back to Snape.

"We will brew the potion today and then over the next few days I will have other teachers and certain students report back to me on your behavior. Obviously, if the potion works and your partner behaves as a friend you will receive full marks. If the potion fails, you get to try one more time. And if there is any indication of someone trying to fake the results, by acting as friends or acting unaffected, the person falsifying results will not only fail but also lose fifty points from their house. If that doesn't convince you, I don't know what will."

Snape looked around at the class, students glaring at their partners as if daring the other to try to pretend, and permitted himself a small smile. "You are expect to work together on making the potion, but remember that you must prepare it exactly as it says in the text, or you might end up with a completely different outcome."

Draco felt, rather than saw, Granger's hand being raised beside him. Keener, he thought.

"Yes Miss Granger?"

"What about an antidote? I mean, when do we get to take that? Or does this potion just wear off with time?"

Draco smirked. "I would have thought you'd have known everything about it already, Granger. Slipping up in your studies so early in the year?"

"Mr. Malfoy, if you don't mind, I'll answer Miss Granger's questions," Snape cut in. "I will give each of you a normalizing potion when I am convinced that the Amicibilitas has been effective. That shouldn't take more than a week in most cases."

Draco could see that Granger had more questions that she wanted to ask, but Snape continued before she could get her hand up.

"Now, we're wasting time. Everyone get to work. I expect these potions to be ready to drink by the end of class. If you need help with the instructions, ask your partners."

With that he turned his back and moved to his desk, leaving the unhappy students staring after him.

Hermione starting listing off the worst swear words she could think of under her breath.

"Why Granger," Malfoy said silkily, "such language. Not very classy at all."

"Don't bother talking to me until you've taken the potion, Malfoy. I won't be responsible for what happens," she snapped at him, pulling out ingredients and slamming them onto the desk. "Although I can't imagine that even a potion could make you remotely human enough to be friendly to anyone."

"Well, I'd have to agree that it would take some serious magic before I could ever be tricked into be friends with you," he replied. "I have a feeling that this is one assignment that you aren't going to get perfect marks on, Mudblood."

Hermione had to count to ten, and then fifty, before she could speak again.

"At least I won't have to worry about being bewitched into being friendly to you, since you probably can't get potions right without Snape holding your hand. And he doesn't seem to be here to help you this time. Have we fallen from grace, Malfoy? Or did Daddy forget to pay his yearly bribes? Too busy trying to suck up to someone in power to remember his son?"

"My father doesn't have to pay anyone for me to get treated well," Draco shot back. "I'm a Malfoy, one of wizardry's oldest families. We are treated with respect no matter what."

"Oh, yeah right. Respect. Sure. Blackmail and scare tactics don't make for respect, Malfoy. Real respect is something you could never understand."

Hermione could feel herself starting to get red in the face, so she took a deep breath and continued, "Well, it doesn't matter right now. I'm going to work on my potion and then I'll get a good laugh when you start acting all nicey-nicey. It'll be great for the whole school to see Draco Malfoy trying to be friends with a 'Muggle-born'."

"That'll never happen!"

"Just you watch. And remember what Snape said, if you make me mess up it could end up being some even weirder potion."

"Oh don't worry, I'll leave you alone. But no potion on the planet is going to make me be friends with you, Granger."

"Wow! There's actually something we agree on," she said sarcastically. "Someone ought to call Guinness."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Muggle reference. You'd never stoop so low as to understand."

"That's for sure."

Hermione decided that she wasn't going to bother responding to that. Man, he made her so angry. It was absolutely unbelievable that Snape would set something like this up. Maybe Ron was right and he was taking his anger at being forced back into spying on You Know Who's followers out on his students. Or he just had a really sick sense of humor. Whatever it was, she wasn't very happy at being forced to work with Malfoy. He was such a little creep. She picked up her pestle and started smashing ingredients in the mortar, imagining that she was hitting Malfoy.

Draco was fuming. He couldn't believe that Snape would pair him with her. She'd managed to insult him twice, and then insult his father, in less than ten minutes. He could barely concentrate on the ingredients in front of him, thanks to the anger that was flowing through his mind. He wanted to say something even more nasty to her, to let off some steam, but she'd got him so rattled that he couldn't really come up with anything. He started throwing stuff into his cauldron, not paying any attention to the order the ingredients went in. He looked over at Granger. Her cheeks were pink and her hair was flying in all directions as she added ingredients to the mortar and then attacked them with excessive force. She was glaring at the instructions as if they'd just said something rude to her.

"Hey Granger," he drawled, wanting to see if she'd rise to the bait. She finally turned to glare at him. "Think you've ground those herbs well enough?" he continued. "They're probably more than a little bruised. I wouldn't want my father to have to get you put in Azkaban for attempting to poison me."

"Oh, you just try. I'm doing everything exactly like it says. If anything goes wrong, it's going to be with your potion." She gestured towards his cauldron as she spoke. "Did you even bother to measure anything? I mean, I know you hate Muggle-borns but trying to get rid of me in front of the entire class is a little obvious."

"I wouldn't do that. I'm just going to sit back and wait. My father and his friends will take care of everything soon enough."

"Ooo, you're being such a creep," she snarled. "I could smack you."

"What's stopping you? It's not like you've never done it before," he lashed back, remembering the mortification he'd felt that day.

"That was a year and a half ago, and anyway you completely deserved it,  insulting Hagrid like that when it was already your fault that Buckbeak was going to be killed. Good grief, don't you have any respect for anyone's feelings?"

"Respect for that big oaf? Please, he's worse than a Mudblood, and he's part Giant and everyone knows that they're one step up from animals. Big, horrid, stupid, evil things."

"Oh, evil, are they? Why do you call them evil? Don't they fight on the same side as you want to be on? I had heard that they were allied with You Know Who. Just like your family. Which means that if they're evil, your precious father is evil too."

He stared at her in shock.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy. What is going on over here? Why are you two not finished?"

Snape had wandered past their worktable while they were fighting.

"If you two hold the class behind it will be twenty points from each house." Draco started to protest. "I mean it, Mr. Malfoy. Now will you concentrate on your lesson."

Draco glared at Granger and she returned the look.

Snape smiled to himself, then moved on to stop Longbottom from adding the lacewing before the knot grass, since the last thing he wanted was Pansy Parkington chasing the boy around under the influence of an enslavement potion. This class was certainly going to make for an interesting few weeks.

* * * * * * *

Potions were bubbling in every cauldron as the class came to a close. Snape walked through the rows and told certain students to pour theirs down the drain, as they were the wrong color or scent. Hermione watched Harry give a sigh of relief when Goyle went to dump the noxious gray-green brew he'd been preparing. Soon about two thirds of the pairs remained, sitting uneasily with goblets of purple liquid on the desks in front of them. Snape had explained that the slight variations in color simply indicated the strength of the potions. Which meant that the deep indigo draughts sitting in front of herself and Malfoy must be particularly strong. It would have to be to get through that thick skull of his, she thought. She looked over at Malfoy and was surprised to see that he looked at least as nervous as she felt.

"All right students. Those of you whose partners did not mix the potion properly will leave their labeled cauldrons in my store room. Next class your partners will be give another chance. If they still do not mix it properly, they will drink your potion regardless."

Hermione grinned at the thought of Harry being forced to have Goyle acting friendly, then shuddered at the thought that she was possibly going to be temporary friends with Draco Malfoy. Ugh.

"Those of you who have potions ready to drink, be aware, this potion acts gradually, and if all has been done properly you will not particularly notice the changes happening. You will be called into my office to receive a normalizing potion once I am convinced of the potion's effect. This should not take more than a few days. Then your lives will be back to normal.

"So, class, bottoms up!"

As Hermione reached for her goblet, she could have sworn Snape was smiling. Then she turned to Malfoy, raised her goblet in a mocking toast, and drank.

Draco sneered at Granger and gulped down the contents of his goblet. It didn't actually taste all that bad, this potion, though he was sure that the normalizing potion would taste much sweeter, if only because it would mean he was free of acting friendly with Hermione Granger. As he drained the last few drops and put down the goblet with a thud, he looked over at her. Well, he didn't feel any more friendly towards her. Maybe the reason their potions were so much darker than everyone else's meant she'd screwed up. Although it would mean that he'd screwed up as well, but even that wouldn't be so bad if he knew she'd made a mistake. It would be proof that Miss Perfect Granger couldn't be that good all the time. And that thought was sweet.

"Class time is finished," Snape's voice interrupted his thoughts "Your homework is to research and write three rolls of parchment on the history of the usage of this potion in times of unrest. This is a joint project to be done by each of the assigned pairs who have taken the potion, due the fifth of October."

Draco shot a horrified look at Granger, a look which he could see mirrored in her face. Not only did he have to worry about possibly feeling friendly to the girl, he had to work with her too. It was too much. He barely heard Snape outlining what the people who had failed to mix the potion properly had to do. His mind was completely wrapped up with the thought that he was going to have to spend time, quite a lot of time in fact, with Granger. He heard her voice and turned to her as the class started to break up.

"Why don't we divide up the essay topic so that we can each write a section and then just combine them. That way we don't have to work together all that much." She was pointedly not looking at him as she spoke.

"That sounds fine by me. What parts do you want?"

"I really don't know the topic, so why don't we meet after we've read the overview in the text book. Then we can divide it up really quickly. Next Monday, maybe, to give us a few days."

"Okay, let say seven, at the doors of the library. Neutral territory, right?"

"Right. See you then"

And then she pushed right past him and left him staring, before he could get his brain together to start packing his books. For some reason he couldn't figure out, it bothered him that she ran away from him so quickly. Guess the potion worked faster than Snape had implied. Oh boy, was this ever going to be a bad week.

* * * * * * *

As he watched Malfoy stare after Granger, Severus Snape couldn't help smiling. He quickly assumed his usual grumpy expression and shouted at the straggling students to scare them out of the room. Eventually the last few headed out the door for their commons rooms, and Severus began to clean and prepare the room for his first lesson the next morning.

As he worked, putting bottles, jars and tubs into various cupboards, his mind was on the experiment he had just set in motion. Although he had every faith in the Amicibilitas potion, and a strong belief in the motives behind his actions, there were certain circumstances which were worrisome. He was still tidying the room, lost in thought, when Minerva McGonagall poked her head around the door.

"So," she asked, "are they all set?"

She stepped inside the room and closed the door tightly behind her. Severus set down the cloth he had been using the wipe the front counter and leaned against the front row of tables. As she crossed to him, he considered his answer.

"Most of them," he said finally. "Certainly the important ones. I must admit that I feel a little underhanded trying to encourage harmony between the houses by drugging them. But I understand the importance. Really, I do. The only ones which worry me are Malfoy and Granger."

Minerva looked at him quizzically. "Really? I would have thought there would be no problem with that pair. Granger is certainly capable enough, and she wouldn't let Malfoy poison her."

"Yes, well," he hesitated. "I'm afraid that the two of them fought the entire time they were working, and as a result their potions went a little awry. But I had to let them drink. There wouldn't be enough time, otherwise."

"Awry? How awry? Are they about to become the best of friends? That could cause problems with Potter and Weasley."

"Oh no, not best of friends. I'm afraid that they both managed to concoct potions that were nearly blue."

"Blue! No, Severus, you didn't let them drink Fidelitas potions, did you?"

"Only very mild ones, Minerva, very mild. And I think that considering the mindset we are dealing with in Malfoy, that may have been the best solution in the long run."

"But we can't have the Granger girl fancying herself inseparable friends with Malfoy. It will cause very serious problems with her existing friendships."

"Perhaps they will have the sense to not let it cause problems. If Malfoy starts to care for Granger, it could change any number of his attitudes. You know what effect caring for someone can have on a person's beliefs, don't you?"

"Severus!" she smiled up at him.

"And I'm sure that Granger has enough sense to not let her relationship become common knowledge if it might damage her friendships. Any sensible female would."

"Are you calling me sensible? Not terribly romantic, Severus."

"No, Minerva, very much so. If it's such a large part of why I care for you, of course it's romantic."

She sighed deeply and shook her head.

"What on earth am I supposed to say to that?" she asked.

"Well, if we're still on the topic of romance, how about sighing and saying 'Oh Severus'?" He smiled mischievously.

"I don't think so." But she smiled slightly even as she tried to look stern.

"Fine, just glare at me, then. If I didn't have to prepare for my next lesson, I'd prove just how much I liked sensible."

"Mmmm..."

* * * * * * *


	2. Chapter Two

Title: Fidelitas (2/?) version 3

Author name: Kali

Summary: A ploy of the teachers' to help the houses get along causes serious troubles when certain students' potions go wonky.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note: This is a work in progress attempting to analyze Draco and Hermione and to see if they can be friends. The Romance mentioned in the Category is in the distant future – I have to get them past wanting to kill each other.

I apologize for any major canonical errors I might have made, I've tried to stick to the books. I have tweaked the facts about the Maurader's Map though - I'm pretending that the map was returned to Harry when Crouch's deception was revealed.

Big thanks to my beta reader, Lanna, for her help and support. This never would have been posted without her.

~ Chapter Two ~ 

Usually the Friday evening after the first week of classes was devoted to moaning about how unreasonable the teachers were in their assignments and expectations, and then dismissing thoughts of school for discussions about the upcoming Quidditch season and who had done what over the summer break. This year, however, the only topic of conversation was the events in Snape's fifth year potions class. When the other students heard about the experiment, they were surprised, to say the least.

"Well, that's a new one!" exclaimed Fred Weasley. "We never had to do anything like that."

"Maybe because we're just such a naturally friendly bunch, there was no need for potions," his twin offered, only to be hit by a pillow for his efforts.

"Perhaps this is some new curriculum thing because of the Tournament last year," said Angelina. "It's not like there was a great deal of friendliness going on between the three schools."

"Well of course not, stupid, it was a competition," George told her and was hit with several pillows this time.

"No really," Harry said. "Maybe she's right. There's way to much fighting between us and the Slytherins and maybe Dumbledore decided that he should encourage us to be friends, even if only by magic."

"Well, I can tell you one thing," Ron put in, "the only way I am ever going to be friends with Crabbe is through magic. Just the thought of it makes me shiver. And you, Hermione, with Malfoy! How gross is that?"

Hermione looked up from the books she had already surrounded herself with.

"Huh?"

"I was just saying, how gross that you have to be friends with Malfoy, even by magic."

"Oh, ugh, don't make me think about it. Yick." And she put her head down to study the book in front of her.

The discussion of what was happening continued around the common room, but Hermione didn't pay it the slightest attention. Although she wasn't paying attention to her books either. All she could think about was how she was trapped into being friends with the one person in Hogwarts whom she hated more than anything. The real bother was that she kept thinking that maybe this was her chance to make him see how wrong he was and make him not hate her anymore. Which wasn't a thought she wanted to have at all.

* * * * * * *

The over the next few days, Draco avoided any possible contact with Hermione and her friends. It wasn't anything in particular, he kept telling himself, just that the thought of cheerily saying "Hey, how's it going?" to her, like Crabbe did to that Weasley twit at breakfast, made his insides twist. Not in a nervous way, of course. It was disgust, pure and simple. He was superior to that Muggle-born and there was no way that he was ever going to act friendly towards her. He would just be distant and let her know that a wizard from his illustrious family would never be tainted by getting close to the likes of her. It was just that he was superior and was going to show it, which was why he carefully brushed his hair back and checked to make sure his robes were looking their best before heading to the library for their study date. There was nothing more to it, he thought to himself as he hurried through the corridors to the library. Nothing.

* * * * * * *

Hermione was standing beside the library doors, trying not to fidget too much. She didn't want Draco thinking she was nervous or anything. No, she wasn't nervous, she just wanted to get this meeting over with as soon as possible so that she didn't have to worry about what was going to happen when she saw him. What if the potion had affected only one of them? Meaning her. She was getting really worried because she couldn't summon up her usual disgust of Draco.... Malfoy! She was even thinking about him with his first name. That had to be a bad sign.

"Hermione."

She jumped, but just a little, at least she hoped it was just a little. She looked up to see him standing right in front of her. Looking almost, well, uncertain or something.

"Oh good. You're here. And on time. Good. Well, um, let's go and find a table and get this over with so we can go, um, do other stuff. Uh, I mean separate other stuff."

Hermione could feel herself blushing as she spoke. She pushed through the library doors and hurried to an empty desk in an alcove between two sets of shelves, calling herself all kinds of names as she went. ~I'm losing it,~ she thought. ~Grief, I never babble. What the hell? Is this the potion? Oh great. Now I just have to keep my fingers crossed that he's as messed up as I am.~

The two students dropped their books on the desk and took chairs on opposite sides. Neither wanted to initiate conversation, so for several minutes the only sounds were of pages flipping a quills scratching on parchment as students on the other side of the bookshelves worked on their first projects. Draco fidgeted with his parchment and quill while Hermione flipped through her potions book until finally her studious side overcame her reservations and she spoke.

"All right, Malfoy, we have to sort this project out somehow, which is going to be a little hard if you're not even going to deign to speak to me."

"Me? I'm not the one pulling the silent treatment, I'm just trying to get my work done," he said defensively, looking down at his scroll, where he'd only written the date, his name, and the topic of the assignment.

"Well, if we don't know what sections we're each doing, how are we supposed to get any work done?"

"Fine," he snapped. "Why don't we divide this up and get on with it. I have better things to be doing with my time than hang out in a library with you."

"Feeling's mutual, Malfoy. So how do you want to divide this up - each of us takes two incidents where the potion was used, and we can get together next week and put our research together."

"Why don't we just each write up our halves and hand it in. That way we don't have to meet at all."

"Well, how are we supposed to know that we agree on what the other person said? What if we end up with a paper that says two completely different things? Not to mention Snape'll kinda notice when we hand in two separate scrolls."

"Okay, fine. I'll give you my work in class next week and you can copy it onto yours."

"What? I'm not your secretary, Malfoy! We're going to do this properly, cuz there's no way I'm getting a bad mark just cuz I had the misfortune of being paired with you."

"Okay, Granger, what do you want? More cozy study sessions in the library? Secret assignations in the astronomy tower?"

Hermione leaned across the table and whispered furiously, "Shut up, you idiot. I don't want to spend time together any more than you do." She settled back into her seat and pulled her hair from her face. "But I do want to do this project properly, so we'll meet here next week and we'll put the essay in order then. Then we can fight over who gets to copy it all out. I'm thinking that the person with the least amount of other homework gets that chore. How many classes are you taking, Malfoy?" She smiled sweetly, the effect ruined by the malice in her eyes.

Draco glared at her, then looked down at his books. "Fine. Whatever. So how are we going to divide this up? There's like ten examples here."

"Well, I want to do the Centaur Rebellion of 1527 and the Continental councils of 1742, so you can pick any of the others. I really don't care. Just do the research and we'll meet in two weeks. Sound good?"

Hermione didn't give him a chance to reply as she grabbed her books and hurried from the table. This project was the worst idea Snape had ever had. Whatever the potion she and Draco - Malfoy, dammit! - had drunk, it sure wasn't making them any friendlier. At least she didn't have to deal with him outside of potions class for two weeks.

* * * * * * *

Two weeks later, Draco leaned against the stone wall outside the library, waiting for Hermione. He was looking forward to showing her the scroll he'd written on the two conflicts of his choice; he'd worked harder than usual on the paper and was pleased with the results. He wanted to show the Muggle twit that she wasn't the only one who was good at the whole school work thing. While Draco didn't particularly think that school work was important, he didn't want the Granger girl to show him up by actually doing a better job than he did. And tonight he was going to get extra ribbing in because she was running late - he'd been waiting for ten minutes and then was no sign of the girl.

When Hermione finally did turn the corner of the hallway, all the nasty remarks that Draco had been polishing flew from his mind. Hermione's left arm was tied up in a sling and there was a lurid black and purple bruise on the side of her face. Without thought, he hurried to meet her halfway and took her books from her.

"What on earth happened to you?" He was surprised by the concern in his voice, as was she.

"Nothing important. I still managed to get my work done, don't worry," she said defensively as they turned to enter the library.

"That wasn't what I asked, Granger. What did that to you? Take a spill from a broomstick?" he mocked, feeling slightly guilty when he looked at her bruised face.

"No, Malfoy, I didn't wipe out during flying lessons. I got into a bit of a scrape the other night and Madame Pomfrey decided it was better if I rested my arm for a while. Nothing interesting."

She walked quickly towards the same isolated table where they had sat the previous week. It seemed sensible to sit out of view of prying eyes while she was working with Malfoy, even though the bookshelves wouldn't hide much if they ended up arguing again.

"Off adventuring with Potty and the Weasel, were you?" Draco asked sarcastically, coming up beside her. "Trying to save the world for all the defenseless Muggles?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, Malfoy, we were 'off adventuring' as you put it. And trying to do something about the fact that there are great threats out there. Not particularly something I want to discuss with you. So let's just work on the assignment, okay?"

Hermione tried to grab her books back from Malfoy and gasped when she moved her arm. Madame Pomfrey had reassured her that it wasn't broken, but it hurt like hell when she tried to do the littlest thing. Although she and the boys had been very careful the other night while trying to track down Wormtail, the Whomping Willow was still faster than them. And the worst part of the whole evening was that they'd lost the little rodent into the Dark Forest when Harry and Ron had stopped to help her. She was still cursing herself over that.

Fortunately, there had been no sign of the creep trying to get back into the castle the past few nights, so perhaps they'd managed to intimidate him. She could only hope. For once, it would be really nice if there could be a term at Hogwarts without intrigue and near death experiences. Hermione knew better than to actually expect such a thing, but it really would be such a nice change. Of course, at least their little adventure the other night had managed to keep her mind off of the fact that she was having to work with Draco. Who  was staring at her with a look of ... concern?

"What?" she snapped, reaching for her books with her good arm this time. "You one of those sickos who likes watching people in pain?"

"Huh? Ugh! No!" Draco moved to the other side of the table, his worry over how pale Hermione had gone when she moved her bad arm replaced by the usual anger he felt around her.

"Okay, then stop staring at me. Let's trade scrolls and see what we've got to work with, okay. I'd like to get this over with."

"Fine by me."

The two students sat in silence as they read each other's papers. Draco heard Hermione's quill scratching as she wrote some notes on a scrap of parchment beside her. Probably writing down some nasty criticisms, he thought. He read more intently after that, trying to find some aspect of her work he could complain about.

After about half an hour, both students gave up the pretense of reading and sat back. They stared at each other warily, until Draco broke the silence.

"So, do I pass, Professor?" Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

"Well, I have to disagree with some points, but generally, it was actually good."

"Don't sound so surprised. You're not the only person here who can think," he said defensively.

"Okay, so I was expecting it to be bad. Who can blame me? It's not like you seem to actually apply yourself ever. The general consensus is that Daddy buys your grades."

"My father does not! I do work at this. If I didn't bring home good marks, I'd be dead. It doesn't help that someone like you is top of our class."

"Someone like me? You mean a 'Mudblood'? Does it make you look bad that I can do this better than you can?"

"Well yeah! Of course. My father says that I have to get better marks than you because otherwise it might make people think that a Muggle-born could actually do better than a Malfoy."

"And that would be so wrong. Oh please!"

"Look, let's just get this over with. I'm fine with what you say in your essay, though Snape's not going to like the Muggle loving bits in the second part."

"Says who? It's an historical fact. And Snape's not some nasty Muggle hater like you are."

"I don't hate Muggles. I just don't care about them. They should stay out of our world. My father says that Hogwarts should never have let Muggle-borns in in the first place, and that ever since they started to come in, that's when things got messy. He says that if the world were only pure-bloods, we wouldn't have any of the problems we have now."

"Well, maybe your father should remember that his great hero was half Muggle himself. And that inbreeding creates morons!"

"Chill out and keep your voice down!" Draco said, looking around to make sure no one had noticed them. "I'm just saying that Snape might not like that bit, so calm down."

"Calm down! Have you forgotten that that's my parents you're insulting? And me? And most of my friends! Practically half of the school comes from Muggles one way or another. Maybe you don't care about this argument, but it's pretty important to most people."

"Look, let's just get on with this, okay? I'm not saying you have to change anything. So what about my scroll? Is it acceptable?"

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to gather her temper. Yelling at Draco in the library wasn't going help anything. It wasn't as though the little prat was ever going to change the way he thought about things. Not if he barely cared about the issues to begin with.

"Okay, it's good," she finally said. "But I think that perhaps your point about the potion being used as a trick against the members of the rebellion of 1690 was a little over the top. It wasn't a trick, it was an attempt to make the two sides see eye to eye. And if we do portray it as a trick, it was a trick against both sides of the issue, not just the Purity group."

"Well, I have to disagree. The Purity group lost their rebellion as a result. My father says that had they not used that potion, perhaps things would have swayed the other way, and they would have succeeded."

"So your father's a historian now?" Hermione scoffed. "Please, four centuries of political analysis says that had they not used the potion, the rebellion would have still failed, but with bloodshed and mayhem instead."

"Yeah, well, Father's says that the use of the potion was premature. There was a strong chance that the outcome could have been different."

"Really?" she mocked. "Well perhaps we can use your father as one of the references. Does he have a book on the subject or should we just put 'Rantings of Lucius Malfoy' in the bibliography?"

"Look, I'm just telling you what he says," snapped Draco. "If you think that Snape won't buy it, we can cut that bit out, okay?"

"Sounds good to me. I'll scratch it out."

"Is there anything else, Madame editor?"

"No, it's fine. Why don't you just rewrite the bit we talked about and we can meet here again on Saturday and sort out the order of the final paper. I'm thinking that chronological order makes the most sense, d'you agree?"

"Sure, whatever. And if you come up with other ideas on how I can write _my paper, just send me an owl, okay."_

Draco grabbed his scroll and books and stomped off, leaving Hermione staring at his back. ~Looks like the potion still isn't working,~ she thought.

            * * * * * * *

Draco sat in the Slytherin common room, fuming. That Granger girl had presumed to tell him how to write his paper. It wasn't as though she knew any more about the issue than he did. And all her ranting about the Muggle-lover comments! She got way too riled over things like that. That was why people like her and her friend Weasley were never going to go anywhere. Too emotional. His father always said emotions would be the downfall of anyone who allowed themselves be ruled by them. Draco worked hard to emulate that point of view, although some emotions crept in or couldn't be supressed, no matter how hard he tried.

And sometimes he couldn't control the anger he felt when he watched people admiring Miss Perfect Granger, or the Herioc Potter. It wasn't that he particularly cared about Granger's parents, or Muggles at all, it was just that he hated seeing people like that get ahead in the world when he, a Malfoy, should be the most important person in the school. And the worst part was that it seemed like most of the school was on their side. There were barely any students who had realized that to align with a Malfoy was to join a winner. And the only teacher who gave him any respect for his family's power was Snape, who was acting oddly this year. School was horrid even without his father's pressure. And then there were the other matters with his father, which were to be avoided if at all possible.

It was so frustrating. He wanted to yell at someone, or kick something. But instead, Draco took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Too much emotion was dangerous. He was going to rewrite the paper and get the assignment over with. Then he would be finished with Hermione, and he continue trying to bring life back to normal.

* * * * * * *

That same evening, Hermione was in the middle of ranting to Harry and Ron about how irritating she found Draco Malfoy when she looked up to find most of the Gryffindor common room staring at her.

"What?"

"Hermione," said Fred quietly "we think he's pretty awful too, but you were going on about his looks."

"Yeah," George chimed in "and in a kind of creepy way, like you thought he was good looking and that bugged you."

"He is not good looking!" she almost shouted. "He has stupid hair and stupid eyes and stupid cheekbones and he's all the wrong height and what are you laughing at?"

"It's okay, Hermione." George could barely speak. "We aren't really laughing at you. Much. But... 'stupid cheekbones'? What on earth was in that potion he gave you?"

"Actually, I think he is kinda good looking, if you like that tall, blond, broody look," Ginny put in.

"Ginny!" Harry looked at his girlfriend, scandalized.

"Well, I didn't say _I liked it, just that he's not all things hideous," she said defensively._

"I for one don't think he's at all attractive," Hermione said hotly. "I think he's irritating and prejudiced and stupid and frustrating and I really, really don't want to talk about him anymore."

"Okay, Mione," said Harry placatingly. "Why don't we move on to something more interesting. Like Crabbe's new found friendship with Ron."

Ron groaned, looking up from the book he was studying. "That I really don't want to talk about. Especially the part where I was actually getting along with him. You can't understand how weird that was, having a civil conversation with the big dolt. You won't be laughing when Goyle finally gets his potion right, Harry. It's really odd to actually be getting along with the Slytherins."

"I don't know," piped up Neville. "I think it's good, actually. I had a long chat with Pansy today while we were working on our paper and it turns out that her parents are just as intimidating as my grandmother, if not worse. I mean they treat her pretty badly. I guess maybe that's why she's so nasty."

"Geez," said Fred. "This is turning out to be some experiment. Gryffindors feeling sympathy for Slytherins, what's next? Veelas hanging out with Giants? Dementors chatting up girls at the pub? Too weird."

"Well, I agree with Neville," Lavender put in. "We never really thought of the Slytherins as people, cuz they're where all the Death Eaters came from. But not all of them are bad, are they? I had a great conversation with my partner. Just normal girl talk, like I'd have with anyone here. And as weird as that might have been, I'm glad, cuz I never would have spent time with her otherwise."

"Yeah well, I think they're probably all just under the influence of the potion. They'll go back to being horrid as soon as we get the normalizing potion," Ron said.

"I don't think so," Lavender argued. "I think that the only thing the potion's doing is making us give up the preconceptions that make us dislike these people. I don't think that the chat I had Regina would have been any different without the potion, except that we never would have had it cuz we each assumed that there was nothing Slytherins and Gryffindors could talk about. And I hope that even after the potion goes away she and I can still talk. Maybe I'm too optimistic, but it would be nice."

"I doubt that Crabbe and I will ever have a conversation after the potion goes away," Ron said gloomily. "I figure the guy's about two steps away from becoming a Death Eater like his dad."

"Oh my God, Ron, did he say that?" Ginny asked, shocked.

"No, but it seemed a fair assumption. It wasn't a big topic of conversation, but even though he was being friendly to me, he still made some pretty nasty anti-Muggle comments and he almost called You Know Who 'The Dark Lord.' I was pretty freaked out, let me tell you."

"Yeah, I'd guess so," said Neville. "But Pansy didn't make any kind of remarks like that to me, and we even discussed the whole uprising and stuff."

"Well, maybe her parents aren't part of that crowd," said Harry reasonably. "I mean, not all Slytherins are Death Eaters. Not then, not now. Just because most of them came from that house doesn't mean they're all bad. And You Know Who's followers did come from other houses as well. Even ours."

There was a general outcry against that remark, but Harry continued.

"It's true, and I suppose that this is some sort of lesson from the teachers about tolerance. I still don't trust most of them, but I figure that Lavender's got a point. Most of the Slytherins probably aren't evil. They might even be pretty normal like us, meaner maybe, but not truly evil. I wonder if we'll get extra points for figuring out the point of the experiment?" He grinned.

"Sure, Harry," Ron snorted. "You feel free to ask Snape why he's messing with our heads. I think I'd like to try passing Potions this year."

* * * * * * *

But the conversation in the Common Room did not go unnoticed by the faculty. It was reported back to Snape and McGonagall by the students who had been listening for them, and the professors were eagerly awaiting reports from the other house involved in the experiment. Unfortunately, the atmosphere in Slytherin house was not as receptive to the few students who tried to put forward the ideas Lavender and Neville had brought up. Every attempt to broach the subject was shot down by Draco, Crabbe, or Goyle. The other students eventually began talking amongst themselves, away from the 'triumvirate' as Blaise named them.

"Perhaps it's true what people said about their dads being Death Eaters," he said quietly to Pansy.

"Oh, I really hope not. But it's kinda making sense now, isn't it? If they are so determined to stick with the whole idea, it doesn't look good, does it?" she asked. "But what if they're right with all their talk of You Know Who coming back. I mean, what's going to happen then?"

"Well, I don't really know, Pansy," her friend Regina replied. "But I'm not going to fight on their side. My parents told me about those days and it sounded terrifying. I really don't think that I want to be on the same side of people who torture other people for fun. I agree that some people are meant to be in charge, like Draco says, but I don't think it should be a bunch of psychos and sadists."

"I agree with Regina," Blaise put in. "I think that we can rise to the top without having to join forces with a bunch of sickos who just want to kill everyone who gets in their way. What if one day they decided that I was in their way? It doesn't sound like You Know Who would really care that much."

"But this doesn't make the snots over at Gryffindor any less annoying," Pansy argued. "I still think that they're way to high on themselves."

"Well, maybe they're snobs, Panse, but I think that some of them are perfectly nice. I had a great time with Lavender and Parvati this afternoon, and you can't say that was the potion because I didn't share potion with Parvati," Regina pointed out.

"I suppose. And I've been getting along with Neville, I'll admit. But that Potter kid and his friends, they annoy me."

"Well, yeah, of course. They're the center of attention, Panse," Blaise said with a smile, "which is where you'd rather be. Most of them are really okay. I've been getting along fine with Dean. He explained a Muggle game called football - seems rather dull compared to Quidditch but there were some pretty funny bits, the way he described it."

"Yeah, they really aren't all as bad as Potty and his pals," Regina said. "Panse, you should really come hang out with Parvati and Lav and me tomorrow. They have some great cosmetic charms that I want to try, and I know that you've been looking for a lipstick enchantment. I think Lavender has one you'd love."

* * * * * * *


	3. Chapter Three

Title: Fidelitas (3/?)

Author name: Kali

Summary: A ploy of the teachers' to help the houses get along causes serious troubles when certain students' potions go wonky.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note: This is a work in progress attempting to analyze Draco and Hermione and to see if they can be friends. The Romance mentioned in the Category is in the distant future – I have to get them past wanting to kill each other.

I apologize for any major canonical errors I might have made, I've tried to stick to the books. I have tweaked the facts about the Maurader's Map though - I'm pretending that the map was returned to Harry when Crouch's deception was revealed.

Big thanks to my beta reader, Lanna, for her help and support. This never would have been posted without her.

~ Chapter Three ~ 

The last Saturday of September, Hermione sat at her usual out of the way table in the library, running over her Herbology assignment, when a tap on her shoulder made her jump.

"Geez Draco, I should get you a little bell to wear around your neck. I nearly spilled my ink."

He grinned at her, unrepentant.

"Sorry," he lied, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

"Yeah, whatever. Let's see what you've got. I added little bits to the ends of my sections so they'd lead into yours. And I figure that an introduction and conclusion could just sort of be a summary of the main points of the essay. Sound good?"

"Sure, sounds fine," agreed Draco. He handed her the scroll with his new essay. After a watching her read for a few moments he spoke again. "Look, I wanted to apologize for making you mad last week. It was stupid argument, and I didn't think."

Hermione looked up at him from the parchment, surprised and suspicious. "You're apologizing? Draco Malfoy's apologizing? Am I hearing things?" A thought came to her. "Or do you just want me to copy out the final essay?"

"No, really. I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to make you mad, and when I thought about it, I realized that what I said was stupid," Draco replied, realizing as he spoke that what he said was true. "I mean, I've never met a Muggle, really, so why should I care about them. And I guess that maybe I was a little extreme about the whole no Muggles thing. I thought about what you said, and it kinda made sense. I was just mad, okay?"

Hermione kept staring at him until Draco started feeling uncomfortable. Finally, she spoke.

"I'm really not quite sure what to think here, Malfoy. It's a bit of a 180 from what you're usually saying is all. What about all that 'Death to Muggles' stuff from last year? Cuz I thought you were pretty serious about that?"

"Well, it's not like I really thought about it. And my father says that if people cared less about Muggles, we could deal with things better. He figures that if we completely cut ourselves off from the Muggle world, we would be better for it."

"So from that you figured that it was okay to kill Muggles?"

"Look, I said I didn't really think about it, okay?"

Hermione snorted. "Obviously. Too busy sucking up to Papa, huh?"

"Leave my father out of this, Granger!"

"Fine. I won't insult the Great Lucius Malfoy. Too easy of a target."

Draco glared. "Let's just get this assignment sorted out. Obviously it was a mistake to try and talk sensibly. I should never have bothered."

"Fine."

Hermione went back to reading the essay Draco had given her, and Draco started making lists of the important points he thought should be in the introduction and conclusion. When she finally looked up again, he tried to keep his voice level.

"All right. I've listed the points I think should be in the lead in and summary. So why don't we come up with a way of tying them together. And since I'm pretty much done the rest of my work for the weekend, I'll copy out the final product. Is that acceptable?"

Hermione nodded, and for nearly twenty minutes the two worked in near harmony as they wrapped up the final details of their paper. As they worked through the layout of the essay, Draco stole occasional glances at Hermione. She'd gathered her hair into a bun and stuck a quill that had lost most of its feather through it. He found himself staring at her neck as she wrote out the outline they'd agreed upon. It seemed that now that he wasn't fully concentrated on hating her, he was starting to notice things he'd never been willing to see before. When she looked up suddenly, Draco shook his head and flushed slightly.

"So, I think we've got it all laid out," she said. "If you have any problems sorting it out, I should be here for a couple hours this evening and most of tomorrow. Or I suppose you can come find me at meal time."

"Yeah, if I want Potty or the Weasel to punch me out," he pointed out.

"Why on earth do you call Ron that?" she asked angrily. "It's not like he's ever done anything to you. I mean, Harry I can understand, he's pretty much your antithesis, but you've been nasty to Ron since before you even met him, really."

"So?" he asked. "He's a Weasley. That whole family's loopy. My father calls them an insult to wizarding."

"Good grief! Don't you ever have an original thought?" Hermione snapped. Draco stared at her blankly as she rushed on. "It seems like every second sentence in your argument is prefaced with 'my father says' or 'according to my father' or some such garbage. If I worshipped my father as much as you do yours they'd be sending me to a psychologist."

Hermione stood and gathered her books as he watched her, speechless.

"Come on, Draco, think for yourself for once. Do you actually believe anything you're saying, have you even thought it through? Or do you just accept it as the truth because," she said mockingly, "_your father says ?"_

With that remark, she turned on her heel and left the alcove, leaving Draco alone with a pile of parchment and a whirl of confusing thoughts.

  


While Draco spent the next several days writing the final essay and trying ignore what Hermione had said, it seemed the professors' experiment was working on the rest of the student body. As the majority of the fifth year Slytherins and Gryffindors began to adopt the attitude of acceptance, the lower years followed suit. It was actually being commented upon by Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws when they shared classes with the two houses. As the experiment and its outcome were explained, the other two houses began to adjust their attitudes as well. Few of the students in the potions class were upset when Snape put off administering the normalizing potions on the excuse that there were still some pairings that had not been resolved. Most had slipped into acceptance of their partners, even occasional friendships, over the weeks of the fall term. By the time the Halloween was approaching, there was greater harmony in the school than had been felt for nearly two decades. With a few notable exceptions.

"Well, Minerva, it's looking as though we have a few lost causes in our midst." Snape was looking sadly over the great hall at dinner one evening in mid October.

"Don't beat yourself up, Severus," she admonished. "There are some minds where simple magic is not enough. It is perhaps fair to say that Goyle and Crabbe were lost to us before they even came here. Living in those families, it's a wonder they have managed to keep their intentions hidden so far."

He sighed. "I know, those two I understand. And also young Collier in second year. But it's Malfoy who frustrates me. Perhaps it was wrong to let them proceed with the incorrect potion. I will only blame myself if that one joins his father. I've tried so hard to pull him away."

"Yes, Severus, I understand. But there was nothing that could be done. The Fidelitas is based on the same principles of bonds and trust, simply magnified. I had so hoped that the Granger girl could break down some of Malfoy's barriers and make him see what the others are realizing. The boy is not stupid, we know this. And I understand that they have been fighting spectacularly for the past several weeks. Perhaps she's getting somewhere."

"Well, I have been informed that he is spending less and less time with Crabbe and Goyle. Perhaps that is a positive sign. I only hope that there will be some break through soon. I can't keep coming up with excuses for why their potion's pairing drags on. Soon I'll have to let them move on, or they will complain to Dumbledore. Or worse, Malfoy will speak with his father."

"We can only hope that something will happen soon. If Malfoy has refrained from going to his father so far, perhaps there is a distance growing there. Which can only be positive. We have accomplished much so far, we must keep up hope."

* * * * * * *

Later that evening, Draco was curled up in a chair in the Slytherin common room, having turned down Crabbe and Goyle's offer to go make fun of the Hufflepuff's Quidditch practice. He really wasn't in the mood for spending time with those two. Since he'd had his last fight with Hermione, he had been spending a lot of his time on his own, trying to come up with defenses against her accusations. Trying, and failing.

They'd met one more time to work on their paper, and there had been surprisingly little said. She read over what he'd written out and approved it. He had been so furious over their last conversation that he hadn't wanted to talk, and she had rushed away as soon as they had agreed that he would present the paper to Snape. He had supposed that that was the end of his working with Hermione, but Snape seemed to have a more twisted sense of humor than anyone had realized. He had not only refused to administer the normalizing potion but also assigned another essay to be done by the student pairings. Draco nearly choked when the new work was announced. He was getting more and more uncomfortable working with Hermione in class, with the awkward silences as they brewed potions side by side. He was starting to realize as they worked together that she was actually an interesting and intelligent girl, and this wasn't helping his attempts the dismiss their debates.

The more he thought about what she had said about his father, the more he realized how right she had been. And that lead to questions about what he truly believed, which were unsettling at a time when it seemed that fewer and fewer of his fellow Slytherins shared his father's opinions. The only two he knew of were Crabbe and Goyle, and trying to discuss the issues with them was akin to banging his head against a wall. They believed what they were told so unquestioningly that it simply made Draco doubt his own convictions even more. What he really wanted was someone reasonable and intelligent to talk to about the whole issue. And the worst part of that was the only person who came to mind was Hermione Granger.

* * * * * * *

Hermione was sitting at lunch a few days after Snape had assigned their new Potion's torture, as Ron called it, when Draco walked over to where she was sitting. Ron glared as Draco approached.

"What does that creep want?" he growled.

"Probably to talk to me about out homework, Ron. He is my partner," pointed out Hermione.

"Well, can't you talk about it in class?"

"We don't have another class until next Monday, and we have to get started," she said, reasonably.

"Fine, whatever. But I don't like him coming to our table."

"Why not, Ron?" asked his sister. "It's not like you're getting all grumpy when Regina comes over to hang out."

Ginny and Hermione grinned at each other as Ron's ears turned scarlet.

"That's different," he said defensively, "Regina's nice. Malfoy's a jerk, and unlike most of the Slytherins, I don't see him turning out to be human."

"I have to agree with Ron," Hermione told Ginny. "Malfoy's going to end up following his father, turning into a Death Eater without even thinking about it. But I still don't want you punching him out, okay Ron?"

"Why Granger," Draco's mocking voice came from over her shoulder, "Rising to my defense. How nice."

She turned around slowly. "What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked coldly.

"I just wanted to know if tonight was a good time to get together to discuss our new assignment."

"Yeah, tonight's fine. Seven, at the library?"

"Sounds good. But maybe you should leave the bodyguard at home, huh?"

Draco walked off before she could respond. He had heard the end of her conversation and was shaking with fury and hurt that she could think of him that way. Well, if she thought he was a mindless pawn of his father's, he was going to prove her wrong.

* * * * * * *

When Hermione arrived at the library that evening, Draco was waiting outside the doors. As she moved past him to enter, he grabbed her arm and stopped her.

"I was wondering if we could do this somewhere else tonight," he asked. "I'm getting a little sick of getting glared at for fighting in there."

"That's assuming we're going to fight, Malfoy," she pointed out.

"Well, with us it's pretty much expected, isn't it, Hermione?"

She looked at him with confusion, as they both realized he'd used her first name. After a moment, she nodded and turned away from the library doors.

"Okay, Malfoy, where do you want to go?"

"I was thinking we could try and see if one of the classrooms near the Great Hall were open. They sometimes are, since the teachers don't leave anything important in there."

"Sounds fine by me," Hermione said. "Lead the way."

As they walked together in silence, Draco tried to come up with a way of starting the conversation he wanted to have. He couldn't seem to come up with any lead in that didn't sound argumentative or mean. By the time they reached the main hallway and had started testing door knobs, he'd pretty much given up on finding a way of saying what he wanted. Fortunately, Hermione's impatience got the better of her before he could make a fool of himself.

"So Malfoy, I'm figuring there was probably another reason you wanted to come work here rather than the library. D'you plan on keeping me in suspense all night, or are you going to let me in on the secret?"

As Hermione spoke, the door knob under Draco's hand turned. Silently, he stood back and motioned Hermione into the room. As she entered, Hermione muttered the spell to illuminate the lanterns hanging from the ceiling, filling the dusty room with an amber glow. Following her inside, Draco shut the door behind him and put his book bag on the nearest desk. He took a deep breath, still not entirely sure where to start.

"Okay, Hermione, yes, I did want to talk to you away from the library for reasons other than school. I'm not quite sure how to say this, so please be patient."

She nodded at his pleading look. Putting her books down, she perched on the desk in front of him.

"All right. You remember that fight we had the other week where you accused me of not thinking for myself?"

Hermione nodded again, not wanting to interrupt him.

"So I've been thinking about what you said. A lot. Pretty much all the time. I guess I've come to the conclusion that you're right, and that I have been pretty much a parrot for what my father says. I spend so much time with people like Goyle and Crabbe, people who've never thought about anything more complicated than what to eat at dinner, and so I never really thought about any of those things you got mad at me about. I just want you to know that what you said got through to me. And now I really need someone to talk to about a lot of things I have questions about. And I was hoping that I could talk to you."

He stopped and took a deep breath. He'd been looking at the floor while he spoke, and when Hermione didn't respond after a few seconds, he looked up at her face. She was smiling. Not smirking or even grinning, just smiling. Draco stared at her in confusion. Finally, she spoke.

"Well, this was not was I expected to hear. This is great. I mean, I'm assuming that it doesn't mean you've decided to ask if you can switch houses and join Gryffindor or anything. But wow, this is really not what I expected."

Draco tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling, relieved. He'd been afraid she was going to laugh in his face or call him some horrible names. He wasn't quite sure what her reaction could be called, but it was positive.

"So, Malfoy," Hermione continued, "what do you want to talk about? Is there some issue in particular, or do you just want someone to listen to you ramble? Because maybe rambling should be done on some night when we don't have mountains of school work."

"I don't think there's anything in particular, right now," he admitted. "Everything's kinda jumbled up in my head right now. I don't know what I think about anything. I mean, if you take away all the stuff my father taught me about life, I really don't have much of a basis for believing anything. I don't know where I stand. I guess I know that I don't think that killing people and hurting people is right. And I'm starting to think that I really don't want to be a Death Eater. But I'm not sure. I mean, what if they win? They'll kill anyone who didn't fight on their side. And I really, really don't want to die."

"Draco, they aren't going to win," Hermione said firmly. "I'm surprised you haven't figured that one out yet. No one's going to let You Know Who get away with this. Dumbledore, and Harry, and Sirius, and so many other people, are going to stop him, just like last time. Except this time he's never coming back, and people like your father are going to end up in Azkaban. And you know _that's not where you want to be, right?"_

"Well, yeah, obviously. But I've always been taught that you figure out which side's stronger, and you pick them. And Father always said that it's people like him that have the power. Not the Weasleys of the world. And I'm not parroting what he says here. It's true. My father has power, and respect, and I want that too."

"Respect," scoffed Hermione. "Try fear. And only some people feel even that. You don't understand what respect is, anyway. It's something that has to be earned, by doing and saying things that people admire. Not by following who ever is most powerful at the moment and then switching sides when it looks bad for you. Your family isn't respected. Everyone knows that your dad was a Death Eater and then pretended to switch back so he wouldn't go to Azkaban. And if you understood anything, you'd realize that the only reason that the people who do 'respect' him do so because they're scared."

"But he _is able to make people do things, like getting Dumbledore suspended that time."_

"Yeah, and that was pure blackmail, wasn't it? And generally as more people start to realize that your father is on Voldemort's side, the 'respect' will start to disappear, since no one wants to be manipulated by a Death Eater. Only the incredibly blind and stupid, like Minister Fudge, still listen to your dad. Most people, and these are powerful people though you might not have figured it out yet, know your father for what he is, and are working to pull him down."

"But..."

"Look, Draco, we can argue this point all night. I have homework to do. If you want to keep talking about things like this, why don't we do it this weekend, when I'm not trying to finish three different projects, okay? You may be having a crisis of faith, but it's not going to get me behind in my school work."

Draco smiled at her remark as she hopped of the desk, grabbed her books, and headed for the door.

"Hermione," he called.

She turned with her hand on the door knob. "Yes?"

"After lunch on Saturday then? We can talk about the Potions work and then maybe just, well, talk?"

"Sure, Draco. Saturday." And she hurried out of the room.

Draco sat on the desk beside his book bag. Saturday. Saturday he could talk with Hermione. Maybe even have a debate about some point or other. He had to think of somewhere to take her. If they were going to have a proper chat, they should go somewhere better than an empty classroom. Maybe if the weather was nice they could go out on the grounds. Like a picnic. He pictured Hermione sitting on a blanket in the sun, the wind lifting her hair, and then shook his head with surprise at the image. Although it was a nice thought. Even if she was there for the homework and serious conversation, nothing said he couldn't look. Mmm... he was looking forward to Saturday.

* * * * * * *

As Hermione tried to concentrate on her Arithmancy homework, her mind kept slipping back to her bizarre conversation with Draco. She still wasn't quite sure what was going on with him, or what she felt about him suddenly acting so differently. It was very disturbing, managing to have if not a civil conversation at least a reasonable debate with someone she'd always thought of as a complete blockhead.

"Hey Mione, that quill done something to offend you?" Ginny Weasley's voice broke into Hermione's thoughts.

"What? No, why?" asked Hermione.

"Well, the old 'if looks could kill' y'know. You were glaring at it as though it had said something rude."

"No, just thinking."

"Hmmm... horrible thought, huh? You met with Draco earlier didn't you?"

"Yeah," Hermione admitted. "And it was weird, Gin. He was definitely acting in a non-Draco like manner. It threw me a bit."

"So what was he doing, exactly?" her friend asked. "I figured the day Draco stopped acting like a superior snot, the sky would turn pink."

"Well, you might want to take a peek out the window, because he was being reasonably friendly, and he actually admitted that perhaps he doesn't want to end up like his father. It was really weird," Hermione admitted.

"Maybe someone's bewitched him," Ginny said.

"Yeah, or maybe he grew a spine. Or a brain. Whichever one it was that it took for him to form an original thought. And he wants to spend time with me on Saturday. To talk, he said."

"To talk?" Ginny laughed. "Boys don't want 'to talk.' Are you sure you haven't charmed him with your witchy good looks?"

Hermione threw her quill at the other girl. "Get real, Gin. The day that Draco notices someone else's looks is the day I go skinny dipping in the lake."

"I'll hold you to that one," her friend threatened. "I'd be willing to bet that Draco's got just a weency little crush on you. I knew all this inter-house friendship was going to make things interesting."

"Ew, Ew, Ew," Hermione said, wrinkling her nose. "Can I point out how much I don't want Draco to have a crush on me? I'm still adjusting the civil conversation part."

"Oh I don't know, he's pretty cute, you have to admit. And if he gets a nice new attitude to go with those Golden Boy looks, really, what's wrong with him?"

"Oh, I don't know. I guess you're right. I mean, he does have the most incredible grey eyes. Have you ever noticed?"

Ginny looked at her friend in fake shock. "Hermione, you were noticing a boy! I think I may have to write the Daily Prophet."

"What? This was your idea, Ginny Weasley. And if you tell anyone that I think Draco's cute, I'll tell Harry that you kissed Seamus."

"You wouldn't," Ginny looked horrified, and as pale as one of the ghosts. "That was ages before I started dating Harry. But still - you wouldn't dare. I'm way meaner than you, Mione."

"I know," giggled Hermione. "But it was great to see your face. But please don't tell anyone about this Draco thing. I have no idea what's going on. And I figure he's probably just looking for a friend to talk to. It's not like he could have had much intelligent conversation the last four years, hanging out with Crabbe and Goyle."

"You got it, Mione. Lips are sealed here. But I expect to be the first to know if anything, happens. 'Kay?"

"Deal - but like I said, I doubt it."

"Sure."

Ginny stood and moved away from the table. ~Hermione and Draco,~ she thought ~who would have guessed? This could get really interesting.~ She smiled to herself as she headed off to have a little chat with her boyfriend.

* * * * * * *


	4. Chapter Four

Title: Fidelitas (4/?)

Author name: Kali

Summary: A ploy of the teachers' to help the houses get along causes serious troubles when certain students' potions go wonky.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note: This is a work in progress attempting to analyze Draco and Hermione and to see if they can be friends. The Romance mentioned in the Category is in the distant future – I have to get them past wanting to kill each other.

I apologize for any major canonical errors I might have made, I've tried to stick to the books. I have tweaked the facts about the Maurader's Map though - I'm pretending that the map was returned to Harry when Crouch's deception was revealed.

Big thanks to my beta reader, Lanna, for her help and support. This never would have been posted without her.

~ Chapter Four ~ 

By the time Saturday came around, Hermione was starting to get a little nervous about her meeting with Draco. She'd been interested in the idea of helping him to work out the issues in his head and turning his thoughts to a more open-minded direction. However, there was a fear lurking in her mind that even reasonable debate wasn't going change Draco and also a feeling that this afternoon was going involve a great deal of shouting and disharmony. She really wasn't thrilled at the thought of having to argue points about Muggles in the wizarding world, since the topic was a little, well, personal.

As she paced the hallway outside the library, which had become their unofficial meeting spot, she also admitted to herself that her conversation with Ginny a few days previous had been preying on her mind. She mocked herself as she considered the time she had spent in front of the mirror earlier, trying to tie her hair down into a neat braid. As much as she wanted to tell herself it was because she thought they might go outside as the weather was unusually nice for October and she didn't want her hair blowing around, her rational side had to admit that she had been trying to make herself look nice, for a meeting with Draco Malfoy no less!

Scowling to herself, Hermione turned on her heel and crashed right into the object of her thoughts.

"Oi! Watch it Hermione! Trying to send me to Madame Pomfrey?" Draco grinned at her to let her know he was joking, knowing that a remark like that a week ago would have set off an argument. He wasn't entirely sure that it wouldn't today, from the fierce look on Hermione's face. In an attempt to forestall any fighting, since he figured there would probably be plenty later on, he took her elbow and started propelling her towards the stairs.

"So, Hermione, I thought that since we're having bizarrely warm weather we should go and enjoy it. I figure that if we head towards the lake, there's plenty of spots we can chose from. And it'll be a nice change from working in the stuffy old library."

Hermione shook her arm free from his hand as they started down the steps to one of the lakeside entrances.

"Sounds fine by me as long as we're nowhere near the Quidditch pitch. I really don't want to have to recopy all my work after getting muddied by a stray bludger… or player, for that matter."

"Not a problem," he said, holding the door for her. "The place I have in mind is fairly sure to be free of flying maniacs and other interruptions."

She grinned at him as the early afternoon sun started to soak into her, pleased at how things were going. It seemed that Draco was trying to be agreeable. Perhaps today wouldn't be as bad as she'd feared.

 "Fine then. Lead on, McFudd."

"What?" Draco asked, confused.

"Sorry, a joke my dad makes. Reference to a Muggle play. I think it's only funny if you're part of our family."

"Oookay." He didn't ask her to explain, though he was curious. He wanted to ask her about what the reference meant and learn about the joke, but was afraid that she would think he was being nosy and presumptuous. After all, they had yet to get through an encounter without a fight. Filled with determination that today would be the day they managed to get along, he started walking quickly towards where he'd decided to take her.

* * * * * * *

"Ta da!"

Hermione's jaw dropped as Draco threw out his arms in an exaggerated gesture of presentation. As she'd followed him silently through the trees along the lakeshore, she'd been wondering to herself whether she should turn back. For all she knew, he was dragging her to a dark, dank cave or something. Who knew where Malfoys liked to hang out. She wouldn't put it past Draco's dad to have a torture chamber as his living room, so Draco's reassurance that where they were going was to be a surprise, really cool, and somewhere they wouldn't be disturbed hadn't entirely made her feel thrilled. But this was not what she'd been expecting at all.

"Do you like it?" he asked nervously. "I think it's one of the most beautiful places I've ever been. But we don't have to stay here. We can go back."

She smiled at him. "It's amazing. Really, really amazing. We're not going anywhere," she said emphatically, sitting on a tree stump near the edge of the clearing.

It really was something, she thought. And to think that Draco was interested in somewhere so lovely. He stood in the center of the small clearing, still looking a little nervous. Around them, trees rose thirty or forty feet in the air, but the afternoon sun poured in through the opening in the canopy. There was a small brook running along one side of the area, perhaps twenty feet from where Hermione sat. She could here the water murmuring as it ran over rocks and branches on its path to the lake. The rest of the space was covered in thick grass, with several large mossy rocks and stumps seemingly set down at random. There was a sensation that time was suspended here, and Hermione could swear she could feel the tension melting from her neck and shoulders. She had never been anywhere that felt so separated from the world.

"Honestly, Draco," she repeated. "It's beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here."

"I'm glad you like it. I've never really brought anyone else here," he admitted. A wry grin twisted his mouth. "It's not like Goyle and Crabbe are great appreciators of nature's beauty."

She laughed. "I'd have to agree with you there. I don't really see them as the type who wax poetic over flowers and sunsets."

"Not exactly, no," he laughed. "I don't think they'd know a poem if it came at them with a stick."

They grinned at each other for a moment, until Hermione glanced away suddenly.

"Well," she said briskly. "We have some work to get through this afternoon. Especially if you still wanted to have a 'talk' later."

"Uh yeah, sure," Draco said as he dropped his gaze to his feet. "Well, why don't we use this stump as a table. We can spread everything out and divide up the topic like last time."

Hermione mumbled her agreement, feeling slightly guilty as she heard the excitement and laughter cut out of his voice. She just wasn't entirely sure that she felt comfortable feeling this, well, comfortable with Draco. It was odd, finding common ground with someone who had been her enemy for such a long time. She wondered if this was the potion they'd drunk a month and a half ago finally taking effect. Perhaps the difference in color had been a sign that it was weaker than the other students' brews. In her readings on the potion she had run across nothing to indicate that they had made theirs incorrectly or what the different color meant; besides, surely Professor Snape wouldn't have allowed them to drink their creations had they made a mistake. But this strange feeling of ease she felt with Malfoy today, it had to be magical. Hermione refused to believe that there could be an actual friendship brewing, no matter how Draco seemed to have changed.

* * * * * * *

After twenty minutes of reading in silence, Draco finally shut his textbook. Hermione looked up at the noise and, seeing his face, she set down the quill she'd been using to take notes.

"I'm getting sick of reading about enslavement potions and mind-link potions and all of this," he grumbled. "I understand how to make the different variations. I understand which ones are legal and which ones aren't. I don't see why we have to write a stupid essay on the misuse of the potions when there hasn't been a case in over a century."

"I don't know, Draco," said Hermione, rubbing her eyes. "Maybe cuz Snape's a sadist."

He stared at he in surprise. "Did you just say…?"

"Yeah," she said aggressively. "So? It's not like you weren't thinking it."

"Well, I suppose," he admitted. "But I just never thought that you would call a teacher names like that."

"Please, I'm human. And this paper is inhumane," she said with a grin. "So we should get it out of the way as fast as possible. Agreed?"

"Agreed," he said, nodding and reopening his book. "So what's the secret plan?"

"Well, not much of a plan, but I figure we write out the reasons why it's wrong to use the potion, then find an example to add it onto each reason. It's a good thing he only wants one scroll."

"Yeah, even with handwriting as large as Pansy's I doubt we could end up with more than one scroll." Draco grimaced.

"Oh well, let's just get it done, shall we?" He nodded and Hermione continued. "I've written out the points Snape lectured on in class and two more from the text book, so let's get an example for each. Then we can divide them up, write it out properly and combine them like we did the last essay."

"Sounds like a definite plan. Why don't we each try to find an example for every point and if we manage to find different ones, then we'll impress Snape."

"And bring in the high marks." Hermione smiled at him. "I like the way you think, Draco. Devious, but effective."

"It the Slytherin in me, my cunning will get me far," he said proudly, only to see Hermione's smile fade a little. "What? Still can't stand the thought of being near a Slytherin? And you call me prejudiced!"

"No, no Draco," she said quickly. "It's not that. The house thing doesn't bother me that much. It's the pride in being underhanded."

"Hey, you just said that you liked the way I thought. That it was a good plan." Draco jumped up from where he'd been sitting on a tree stump and started pacing, glaring down at Hermione.

"Yeah, it was a good plan," she said, also getting to her feet. "And I'm not saying that I don't agree with it. What bothered me is the attitude that being sneaky and underhanded is the way to get where you want to be in life."

"Well, it's getting us to the marks we want, isn't it?" he asked tightly, stopping right in front of her.

"I suppose, but I guess what I'm thinking of it the more dangerous and harmful devious acts I've seen used to gain power. Such as your father giving that diary to Ginny." Draco grimaced and opened his mouth to interrupt, but Hermione rushed on. "It was _terribly cunning, and it got the Chamber of Secrets opened, but at what cost? Your plan to get us better marks isn't hurting anyone. What your father did hurt many people and could have killed a lot more."_

Draco stared down at Hermione, watching her cheeks color in anger, her fists clenched at her sides. He finally turned away in the face of her emotion and tried to compose himself. He really didn't want to have a serious fight about this with Hermione, not today when he had hoped to have an enjoyable conversation. As he walked deliberately away from her towards a group of standing stones, he let out a slow breath and tried to formulate a way of defusing the argument. Finally he turned and sat on one of the stones, facing the girl.

"Well Hermione," he began. "I really don't know if I can make any defense for my father's actions. I agree that perhaps they were wrong in the sense that they did cause a lot of hurt and near death along the way. But he thought that what he was doing was right and for a good cause. In the long run, he was trying to protect the wizards and witches of the school."

"No, Draco, what you think you mean is he tried to protect the pure bloods." Draco tried to interrupt but again she overrode him. "But may I remind you of witch who was ensnared by the diary, which, by the way is a perfect example of why enslavement potions and charms are wrong. Anyway, the witch he chose was Ginny Weasley, who is as pureblooded as you are."

Again Draco tried to speak, but Hermione barely paused for breath.

"Your father could have left the pure blooded witch safe and sound and given the diary to me, who as a Muggle-born would have been someone he could put at risk without a second thought. But no, he decided that he would torment the Weasleys, not because of blood or heritage, but because they offend him by being well liked in a way he never could or will be."

She finally stopped her rant and Draco had a chance to say something, but he was silenced by her accusation because the more he thought about it, the more he realized it was absolutely true. Lucius was always complaining that the Weasleys were an insult to wizardry and should be gotten rid of, but as far as Draco could tell the only reason he gave to justify his hatred of them was their poverty, which had nothing to do with their blood at all. But the unspoken reason Lucius hated Ron's dad was to do with the fact that Mr. Weasley never pretended to respect the Malfoys simply because of their names and history. And the fact that while the Malfoys were a respected family, it seemed the Weasleys were a loved family even with all their foibles and flaws.

Draco opened his mouth to try another defense, this one about the fact that his father was forced to chose Ginny as the recipient of the diary. But then he remembered the confusion in the shop as his father fought with Mr. Weasley. There had been plenty of chances for Lucius to slip the diary in among Hermione's dozens of books. But he'd ignored the obvious route of using a Mudblood and hurt his own kind. Draco's head was spinning slightly as he started to realize that perhaps his father's motives weren't as obvious on a second examination.

"Are you seeing what I mean, Malfoy?" Hermione asked after he'd been silent for a while. "Your father doesn't seem to truly believe all that pure-blood nonsense he spouts. Or at least, he only believes it when it's convenient to him."

"Okay, I'll accept your point about choosing Ginny over you, but I think that was just because he hates the Weasleys," Draco finally responded. "I have to argue that my father really does believe in the supremacy of pure bloods. He's always going on about it."

"Well, I have to say that even if he talks about it all the time, what your father truly believes in is the superiority of Lucius Malfoy. And him spouting all this when his hero is of mixed blood. It's ridiculous. It's like believing a short, dark haired man declaring the Aryan race superior when he's neither blond nor blue eyed."

Draco looked at her quizzically. 

"Sorry, another Muggle reference. I did a paper for Muggle studies on the Second World War and found all sorts of weird parallels to the dehumanization of Muggle-borns."

"Okay, sure, whatever. I already told you that I don't really follow all of this anti-Muggle stuff anyway. I don't care about it."

"Draco, you have to care! If you just sit back and don't argue back when people start slagging off someone for something completely baseless, you're just as bad as the overtly prejudiced. And you _especially should have an opinion on this issue, considering how obvious it is what your father's opinion is."_

"Well, I don't," Draco snapped. "And I don't want to talk about this anymore. So why don't we finish up the assignment."

"Fine. Whatever."

Hermione huffed angrily and settled down to her books. She wasn't thrilled with the topic of their argument, even less so by the fact that Draco, for all his supposed reawakening, was still not able to handle criticism of the great Lucius Malfoy. And most irritating was the fact that she was out here trying to convert her enemy while Harry and Ron were stuck in the castle trying to ward off a much greater evil.

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. Last night had been the third night in a row they had spent putting wards over new and more obscure entrances to the castle. For the past week they had watched on the Marauder's Map as Wormtail attempted to enter the castle in various ways. In September he had attempted to use one of the tunnels that Filch had blocked off, then the one which had collapsed. After both of those attempts failed, Wormtail had gained access to the grounds through the tunnel under the Whomping Willow and had been hiding in the forest ever since.

Since the night she had been injured as they pursued him, he had lain low, but obviously his need to be in the castle had become more urgent recently. There had been various attempts to creep in through dungeon windows, out of the way doors, and the lake entrance. Fortunately, it seemed that someone, perhaps Dumbledore, had blocked most of these off. But Wormtail was becoming more reckless. He had tried to come in one of the doors off of the Quidditch pitch after a Slytherin practice and would have succeeded had Harry not been on lookout with the map while cleaning his gear in the Gryffindor locker room.

There were other strange things happening around the castle. Snape kept disappearing off the map in the middle of the night, often after spending time with Professor McGonagall. The general consensus was that he was flying off somewhere to do something for Dumbledore and that McGonagall was the one giving orders. Hermione and Harry were sure that he was spying on the Death Eaters, though Ron was still convinced that Snape was too mean to be a double agent. Another name which would appear and disappear from the map with no warning was Arabella Figg, who could be seen arriving in the Headmaster's office at all sorts of strange times. Harry kept watch for a name he desperately wanted to see, but it seemed that Sirius was not one of Dumbledore's night visitors.

There had also been some strange behavior from some of the students. Crabbe and Goyle had been spending a lot of time with a Slytherin named Collier, who, they'd managed to determine, was a second year from a family with dubious connections. Ron and Harry were surprised to notice that Draco was never with his henchmen when they met with the younger student, but Hermione refrained from mentioning her theories as to why this was. Although after the argument they just had, or rather the rant she'd just had at the unresponsive boy, she wasn't entirely sure that Draco wasn't somehow still playing Junior Death Eater and simply using Crabbe and Goyle to pass on messages or orders.

"Hermione? Hermione?"

Her thoughts broke off as a hand waved in front of her face. Draco was once again sitting across from her, and he was looking at her with confusion.

"Where were you?" he asked. "I just called your name, like, half a dozen times."

"Sorry," she said, looking down, trying to pull her thoughts together. "I was just thinking about another problem, uh, assignment. What can I help you with?"

"Nothing much. I think I've managed to find examples for all of these points," he said, gesturing at their list, "and it's getting kinda cold. So I figured we should probably head back to the school before the sun sets."

Hermione looked up at the sky and realized that it was late afternoon. Not that that meant much, she thought, since it was October and the sun was starting to set earlier and earlier. Soon they'd be in winter, when the sun went down at practically the same time as the day's classes ended. She shook her head and started putting her books and papers into her school bag. Draco watched her for a second then opened his mouth to speak, but he closed it again and began to pack his own things away.

As they walked from the clearing, Draco broke the awkward silence between them, stopping Hermione is her tracks.

"Can we do this again sometime next week?" he asked quietly

"Well, we'll have to, won't we? We have to get the assignment finalized," she pointed out.

"No. I mean, can we just get together and talk next week. Outside of assignments and stuff."

"I don't know Draco," she said slowly, starting to walk towards the school again. "I mean, I know I agreed to chat today, but it really didn't seem to accomplish much, did it? I have more important things to do that have discussions with someone who can't even be bothered to have an opinion on the topic at hand."

"Okay, okay. I get your point. What if I promise to consider everything you said and come back with an opinion next time?"

Hermione snorted, then looked up at his face. He seemed completely serious.

"Sure, whatever. I suppose that since we'll have to meet to compile this essay, we can give this whole debate thing another chance then. If this is due Thursday why don't we meet Tuesday, which gives one of us," she grinned up at him, "time to copy it out on Wednesday."

Draco groaned. "Why do I get the feeling that by 'one of us' you mean me?"

"Well, I figure we should stick with the deal we had last time - y'know, whoever's less busy - that seemed to work. And I don't know about you, but I'm pretty busy next week."

"Fine, fine," Draco sighed. "I'll copy the bloody thing. But I expect you to make time for conversation next week. No picking up all your stuff and running off as soon as the essay's sorted out."

"Deal. But I will leave if you don't make some contribution to the argument."

"Have you ever known me to back down from an argument, Granger?"

"No comment, Malfoy," Hermione shot back, then lost whatever she was going to say next when a shiver caused her teeth to chatter.

"Cold?" Draco asked, stopping and putting down his book bag. His hands were at the fastening of his cloak before Hermione could respond.

"Just a shiver," she said quickly, "nothing to worry about. I'll be fine."

"I should have told you to bring your cloak," he said, pulling his from around his shoulders. "Here, take mine. Stop fighting. Potter and Weasley would kill me if you got sick after hanging out with me."

She pushed his hands away, but he dodged around her faster than she could turn and put the cloak on her shoulders. Hermione tried to pull the fabric away from her, but Draco simply covered his hands with hers, then moved to fasten the tie at the collar.

"C'mon Hermione, it's nothing. Just think of it as protecting your friends from being humiliated in the fight they'd pick with me over your sneezes and sniffles."

"Okay, fine," she said grudgingly, and waited while Draco picked up his bag and continued walking towards the castle. She fell in step beside him, feeling much better with the cloak between her and the chill of the evening.

"So we'll talk next week?" Draco asked, returning to their previous topic. "I do promise to think about everything you've said and actually be involved in the discussion. Oh man, I feel like I'm promising Professor McGonagall I'll actually participate in class or something. Ugh."

"Well, I take that as a compliment," Hermione said with a smile. "You could have compared me to Professor Binns: too boring to argue with."

"Nope," Draco replied, shaking his head, "boring you're not. If you put half as much fire into a lecture as you do your arguments, you'd be one of the best, most exciting teachers in school."

"Thank you Draco," Hermione said. "I can only hope that my students would feel the same. I mean, when I have students. If I become a teacher."

"Stop waffling," he ordered. "Everyone knows you're going to become a teacher. Probably headmaster, too. Just promise me that if you do teach History of Magic, you won't drone. I swear that if you compared Binns with a hive of bees, they'd sound the same."

Hermione laughed. As they reached the main courtyard, she handed Draco her satchel and untied the cloak from around her neck. Pulling it off her shoulders, she reached out for her bag and passed the cloak off to the boy with her other hand.

"Thanks for showing me that clearing, Draco. I'll see you on Tuesday, okay?"

"Sure," he replied and stood silently watching her walk determinedly to the door that would lead to the Gryffindor tower. Shaking his head, he wrapped the cloak around his own shoulders and moved slowly towards the entrance that would lead to the Slytherin part of the castle. He had a feeling he wasn't going to get any homework done at all that evening, far too many thoughts about what Hermione had said that afternoon were swirling around his brain.

* * * * * * *


	5. Chapter Five

Title: Fidelitas (5/?) version 3

Author name: Kali

Summary: A ploy of the teachers' to help the houses get along causes serious troubles when certain students' potions go wonky.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note: This Chapter is about twice as long as the previous ones. It just kept flowing. It's also a very dark chapter, so be warned. Low fluff, high angst content.

Big schnoogles to my beta reader, Lanna, for encouraging and pushing me. I might have given up if not for her.

~ Chapter Five ~ 

Tuesday arrived too quickly for Hermione. Not only was she not looking forward to her meeting with Draco, she was exhausted and irritable from keeping such late hours watching the Marauder's Map. Watching for suspicious behavior and trying to find a pattern to the movements was her job, while Ron and Harry worked at thwarting Wormtail's attempts to enter the castle. Right now, though, Hermione was more confused than ever. Not only were Wormtail's approaches becoming more frequent and more daring, there was also some strange new behavior from a student she had been watching. It seemed that Collier, the second year Slytherin who had been seen meeting Crabbe and Goyle, was trying to spy on some of the teachers.

Hermione had watched in confusion the first time the boy approached Snape's classroom in the middle of the night. Originally she had assumed it was for some prank, stealing an ingredient or two. But Collier had not gone to the classroom's ingredients cupboard, instead he had made his way into Snape's small office. When Hermione had notified Ron of this, Ron went to look and reported that the younger boy was sitting at Snape's desk going through the papers in the drawers. A few nights later, Hermione watched as Collier did the same thing with McGonagall's office off the Transfiguration classroom. She was somewhat surprised that the teachers' offices weren't warded against intrusion, but it seemed that Collier had managed to get in regardless of whatever enchantments might have existed.

This was not the only strange behavior she had noticed in the boy, however. The meetings with Crabbe and Goyle had become an almost nightly event, and Hermione had watched as Collier went out to the grounds very late at night, often after visiting the kitchens. She could only assume that he was somehow leaving food or messages for Wormtail. It seemed safe to believe that the boy was a spy for his parents, watching Snape to determine his loyalties, aiding Wormtail, and possibly spying on Harry as well. Harry had mentioned that someone had been into his locker in the Quidditch hut, and Hermione wouldn't have been surprised to find out that it was Collier.

With all of this to think about, the last thing Hermione wanted to deal with was an argument with Draco. Right now she was too busy trying to deal with real Death Eaters to spend time explaining to Draco what was wrong with their mentality. And she wasn't entirely convinced that it was worth her time, anyway. Even though he had said he wasn't sure he wanted to follow his father anymore, Hermione wasn't convinced that Draco wouldn't join up with Voldemort regardless. All of this new-found interest in Muggles and his supposed change of heart weren't entirely convincing, no matter how much he protested that it was genuine. Hermione was determined to get to the truth of what was happening. If he was just playing with her, she had no intention of wasting her time.

She still hadn't told anyone about Draco's sudden change of heart because of her uncertainty. Hermione was certain that Ron and Harry would immediately believe that it was a trick on Draco's part. While they had come to accept the majority of the Slytherins, her friends were still suspicious of Draco because of their past encounters with the blond boy. As well, their experiences with the Amicablitias potion had been less than successful.

For all the potions had caused Crabbe to act civilly towards Ron, the effects hadn't changed much of the rest of his personality. Crabbe obviously still hated Harry and all that he stood for, and his loyalty to his father's master never lessened. Ron had become sick of the awkward conversations they had had, with Crabbe's prejudices constantly coming up, and finally managed to convince the lumbering Slytherin that he, Ron, should write the papers for Potions class. Happy for an excuse to avoid work, Crabbe had agreed. When Harry and Hermione teased Ron about his willingness to do extra homework, the redhead had pulled a face and explained that he was more than willing to put in a few extra hours if it meant avoiding spending time with the other boy.

Harry hadn't been stuck in the unpleasant situation of being friends with Goyle. It seemed that Slytherin was incapable of brewing the potion properly, and so Snape had finally given up and allowed Harry and Goyle to write slightly shorter essays on their own. Harry had been relieved by this, he told Hermione one evening, because the thought of being magically enchanted into friendship with someone who wanted him dead was too confusing to contemplate. When Hermione nodded without responding, Harry had switched topics suddenly, realizing that his friend was in a similar situation.

Hermione felt somewhat guilty for not telling Ron and Harry about her situation, but she knew there was no way that they would have an objective view. She wasn't entire certain that she had one herself, but since there was no one she felt she could talk with, things weren't becoming any clearer. It was hard, leaving the common room Tuesday night to go to the library, smiling at Ron's teasing about watching out for Draco and turning down Harry's offer of company and protection.

She didn't feel like she needed to be afraid of Draco anymore, but Hermione knew that his new attitude could be an act. She knew that the potions they had drunk were not the friendship potions, even if she still hadn't found out what they were. And even if the strange indigo liquid had been another version of a friendship potion, it wouldn't explain why the boy was questioning his beliefs. Either he had actually changed somehow, for some reason, or it was all a trick, an act. More confusingly, she wasn't certain how she would feel if she found out it were an act. The thought upset her for reasons she couldn't put her finger on.

For four years, Draco had been cruel towards her and now that he had undergone this seeming change of heart, she had no idea how she felt about him. It had been much easier when he was so nasty, then Hermione had been able to dismiss him from her mind as a jerk not worth wasting her time. But this new Draco who actually talked with her, who seemed to respect at least some her opinions, who had given her his cloak when she was cold… this new Draco was not someone she knew how to deal with. She had no idea how she felt about him. And the thought that all of it could be just a game, a trick he was playing on her for some sick reason, hurt her deeply.

* * * * * * *

The library was quiet at nine o'clock, as most students had decided they'd had enough of musty texts for one evening. The lamps still burned dimly, and at a secluded table near the restricted section, Hermione sat in silence across from the Draco. They had finished their school work, and there was nothing else to delay their conversation. She decided that this time the topic would be decided by her, and if Draco didn't like it, well, he could go stuff himself.

"So Draco," she began abruptly, "I want to know what brought on this interest in talking with a Muggle-born about prejudice. The _real_ reason. I know there's more than just Snape's potion behind it."

Draco looked shocked, then stared down at the table. "It's just curiosity," he muttered.

"Yeah," Hermione snorted. "And I'm a supermodel. Don't try to fool me, Draco. This time three years ago you were rejoicing in the thought of the extermination of all Muggle-borns. Last spring you all but threatened my life. Somehow I'm not able to believe that you've become curious all of a sudden."

Hermione knew that she was being harsh, but she was tired and her patience was wearing thin. Still, when Draco lifted his head and met her eyes, Hermione was surprised to see that his skin was chalky white.

"It's nothing important. Nothing we need to talk about," he said finally, breaking eye-contact. Again he stared down at the table. His hands were clenched into fists.

"Actually, it is. I don't trust you further than I can throw you," Hermione stated. "Until you explain your change of heart, I don't think we're going to bother with these discussions. I want to know that this is not some trick you and your family came up with to, oh I don't know, gain my trust and then kidnap me and give me to the Death Eaters or something."

"It's not!" Draco's head shot up, and he reached one hand across the table to grasp hers. "I wouldn't do that. Really. I just want to know more about these things, Muggles and such. Believe me when I say this is not a trick."

Hermione pulled her hand from Draco's grip. Pushing her hair back from her face, she leaned across the table.

"Excuse me if I don't believe you. You as much as told Harry and Ron that you wanted me dead. And now you tell me that you don't think you want to be a Death Eater, and you want to have chats with me about my family history. That's more than a little strange, Draco."

"You weren't complaining before," he pointed out.

"I was probably in shock before," Hermione said. "I did a lot of thinking these past few days and I've realized that I don't like whatever's going on. It's seriously unnatural. So unless you've got a really good explanation, I'm going to leave you with that essay to transcribe and go back to my friends. You know, the people who've never rejoiced in the possibility of my death."

"Would you stop saying that!" Draco grabbed her wrist.

Hermione yanked her arm away again and rubbed it. Draco noticed the small action. With a deep sigh, he pulled his hand back and rubbed his face.

"I'm sorry Hermione, I didn't mean to hurt you. I just wish that you would stop talking about that."

"What? That you wished me dead? I'm sorry, Draco," she drawled sarcastically, "but that's not exactly something I'm about to forgive and forget. It's a little too personal."

"Look, I don't want you dead now. I don't want anybody dead." Draco's voice cracked slightly on the last word.

Hermione looked up from examining her wrist, surprised. She realized that she had probably been more nasty than was necessary, but she was didn't feel like playing silly games anymore. Still, she hadn't expected for her remarks to cause such a strong reaction. She looked questioningly at Draco.

The blond boy had propped his elbows on the table and was resting his head in his hands, covering his eyes. Hermione watched him for a few moments and was about to ask if he was okay when Draco scrubbed his hands violently against his cheeks, then sat up straighter in his chair. He threaded his fingers together and rested his hands on the table. Taking a deep breath, he began to speak.

"Okay, I'll explain," he said. "But I don't want anyone else to know about this. Ever. I've never told anyone else, so if I ever hear back about it, I'll know who started it."

Hermione looked at him in surprise. There was serious look on his face that she had never seen before, and he was staring at her intently. She held Draco's gaze for a moment, then nodded.

"I'm not a gossip, so I'm not about to rush off and tell the school. Don't worry, whatever you say is between you and me," she reassured him.

"Alright, so you want to know why I'm asking all of these questions. Why I'm doubting everything I've been taught to believe. It's because I saw something that made me question everything I've ever known, everyone I ever trusted…

"It happened last summer. I was out wandering the grounds around our house one evening in August, just walking and thinking. Mother was off at some party, and Father was supposed to be out as well. Anyway, I wasn't really expecting to run into anyone, because our property is heavily fenced and warded, so when I heard voices I decided to hide. I was at the edge of a clearing, so I headed back into the woods to stay behind a tree until the people left. Instead, the voices got louder, like they were headed right for me. I had no idea who it could be, so I climbed up the tree and tried to be as quiet as possible.

"Anyway, it worked, so the people who came never even noticed I was there. There were a couple of people I'd never seen before, and then came some of Father's friends: Mr. Macnair, Goyle and Crabbe's fathers. And finally came my father. I was about to climb down and pretend I'd been spying on them, following them or something. If my father knew I'd been hiding in a tree because I was afraid he'd never let me live it down. But when I saw that Mr. Goyle and Mr. Crabbe were carrying something, I changed my mind. I didn't really know what was going on, but I knew that I shouldn't go down there."

Draco took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Rolling his shoulders back, he crossed his arms on the table in front of him and looked up at the ceiling, as though searching for what to say next. After a few moments, he dropped his head back down to stare at his arms and continued quietly.

"Everyone gathered in the clearing. Mr. Crabbe dragged the bundle to the center of the clearing and pulled at the blanket it was wrapped in. I don't know what I was expecting, but I almost fell out of the tree when a man rolled out of the covering. He was covered in blood and rags, and he curled up in a ball when he hit the ground. Mr. Crabbe kicked the man in the back and said something I couldn't understand, but it made all the others laugh. One of the ones I didn't recognize pulled his wand out of his robes and turned to the others. 'I believe it was my turn' he said, not even pausing for an answer before cursing the man with the Imperius. Until the spell, he forced the man to uncurl and stand up. The guy could barely make it to his feet, so another person enchanted him so he was just hanging in mid air like a puppet on strings. But they left his head limp, as though _that_ string had been cut. He looked half-dead. It was..."

Draco stopped abruptly. His fingers had curled into claws and were digging into his upper arms, Hermione noticed. After taking a few deep breaths, he loosened his grip and moved his hands to cover his face. Draco swallowed hard, then scrubbed his hands through his hair, pulling at it as though that would relieve his tension. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head and continued his tale.

"So they had this guy hanging there, and they took turns cursing him. They used curses I've never heard of. One of them was as if the man was being beaten with invisible clubs. Another made him scream and claw at his skin, believing there were bugs crawling in him. Every time it was my father's turn, he'd use the Crucio and let the man scream until he was choking for breath.

"It was the most sickening thing I'd ever seen," Draco spat out. "Grown men giggling and clapping like children over the pain of another person. I still couldn't figure out exactly what was going on, though, not until the very end…

Draco gripped his hands together on the table in front of him, knuckles whitening.

"I guess Father had become bored. He does get bored easily. So after they'd been torturing the man for what seemed like hours, Father's turn came up again, and he walked right up to the man. None of them had even touched the man before, but Father lifted the man's head by the hair and slapped him a few times until the man opened, or tried to open, his eyes. Once he knew he had the man's attention, Father asked 'Had enough, Muggle?' and the man moaned. Father stepped back, raised his wand, and..." Draco cleared his throat roughly. "And killed the man with the Unforgivable Curse."

Hermione gasped, she couldn't help herself. Draco's story had made her feel ill ever since she'd realized what might be happening, but hearing Draco describe the killing in that flat tone of voice was too much. She stared at the boy across the table from her, but his head was still bowed. He was examining the veins on the backs of his hands as though they held some great fascination, and he had not even reacted to the noise she made.

"I couldn't believe what I was seeing," Draco said after a while. "After Father killed the man, they let the body drop to the ground. One of them conjured some goblets and a flask, and they drank a toast to, uh, the 'death of all Muggles and Mudbloods' over the dead man. And then Mr. Macnair cast some spell to make the body disappear, Mr. Crabbe picked up the blanket and they all went back the way they'd come from, talking and laughing."

Draco trailed off into silence again. Hermione reached a hand across the table but pulled it back when the boy seemed to shrink away from contact. He held himself rigid, barely breathing. After another short pause he shook himself and carefully pulled his hands apart and crossed his arms again.

"I stayed up the tree for hours afterwards," he said in a voice so quiet Hermione could barely hear it. "I wasn't sure I could move, or if, when I tried, I might fall out of the tree. I was sick to my stomach, but I knew I couldn't vomit in case they came back and found out someone had been there. I didn't know what to do, but finally it started to get dark and I knew that I had to go home and pretend that nothing had happened. So I did. But sometimes when I close my eyes I can see that lump of mutilated bone and flesh, what was once clothes in rags, what was once a person just a… dead… **_thing_**. 

"I don't ever want to see that again. I can't look at Crabbe and Goyle when they talk about their fathers. I can't even look my father in the eye. I never knew that it could be so horrible. So absolutely horrific. And that those men could get pleasure from it. That my _father_ could enjoy it…

"Now I know you hate my father," Draco said, lifting his head to look at Hermione. "But he's never been a bad father to me. Strict and demanding, yes, but never cruel. He never forced me to believe what I did. I just thought that he was right. But now I doubt him, his motives and what he taught me. I can't believe that the person I saw torturing that man was the same Father I always respected.

"I can't believe that they do that for Voldemort. Actually, I know they don't. They didn't mention him once the entire time. They do that for fun. And it's wrong. I don't care if that man were a wizard or a Muggle. And I don't think that it really mattered to them either. Him being Muggle was just their excuse. What they did was sick…"

Draco sighed deeply and shook his head as though to clear the images within. "And that's why I've been having doubts, why I've wanted to have these talks," he said, spreading his hands. "Don't you see, everything I've ever thought was right and wrong is all confused now. And I can't follow blindly with a sick group like that. I just can't. I just can't.

"But I'm also afraid now. I don't want anyone to find out about this, because if it gets back to my father, I don't know what he's going to do. I know that Crabbe and Goyle would tell their fathers if I started acting really strange, if they noticed. And I know that there are others who would get the news back to him somehow."

Hermione nodded, thinking of Collier, wondering what doubts the younger boy might already have if he were excluding Draco from the nightly meetings.

"At the beginning of the year, I thought that I would just get over it," Draco said in a stronger voice. "I did everything like I normally would and just hoped that all this confusion would go away. I told myself that I needed to think about the important things that would come from following in my father's footsteps, the power, the prestige. And I told myself I shouldn't be such a baby and get upset over a little thing like that. So some of the Death Eaters do that. That doesn't mean that I have to…"

Draco trailed off and looked up at Hermione, whose eyebrows were raised in skepticism. He smiled weakly at her look and nodded slightly as if he knew what she was thinking.

"Yeah, well I wasn't very successful at convincing myself. I've become more and more distanced from the people I used to spend time with, because I just can't listen to their conversations about cleansing the world of Muggles without seeing that dead man in my head.

"I started to doubt myself, and when you and I fought about my father, I realized that I had started to doubt my father. And now I have no idea what's going on in my head. I just know that I hate it and I want things to be clear again."

"And so you've been asking me all these questions to help clear your head?" Hermione asked.

"Something like that," Draco agreed. "I just wanted more information."

"So why not ask your father? He could explain everything, I'm sure," Hermione pointed out. "And he's always been the person you turned to before, right?"

"Well, yeah," Draco admitted. "But I'm not sure I want to talk to my father. I couldn't look him in the eyes for days after the… incident."

"So you came to someone on the complete opposite side of the debate," Hermione said. "I see."

"You still don't believe me, do you?" Draco asked angrily. He glared at her across the table, his cheeks flushing.

"I do believe you," Hermione said, finally. "I don't think you would have been that upset if you hadn't actually seen what you were telling me about. And I do believe that you are having doubts. I just want you to explain why you came to me with all your questions."

"I don't really know, okay? I just know that after those first couple of arguments, I knew that I had to know more about what you were saying. And I know that I trust you."

Draco stopped suddenly, his face reflecting the shock she was feeling.

"You trust me?" she asked in a quiet voice. "Really?"

"Um… yes. Really," Draco said, equally quietly. "I don't know where that came from, but I do trust you. I don't know why, but it's true."

"Oh. Okay. Sure," Hermione said, flustered.

This was nothing she had expected. The story about his father had surprised her, but Draco's latest revelation convinced her that whatever changes he was going through were not an act. Hermione wasn't certain how to respond. Draco didn't look like he really knew what to do next either. Hermione smiled slightly at that thought.

"So," she said, "you're very confused right now, because of all this?"

Draco nodded.

"Well," Hermione continued, "so am I. Very. I don't really know what I was expecting you to tell me, but it wasn't this. I guess it sets my mind at ease. I'm sorry that I didn't fully trust you, but I'm sure that you can understand why."

"I guess so," Draco admitted. "I haven't exactly been Mr. Congeniality around you. But I honestly do want to talk with you about these things. I want to know what other people think."

"I'm not just other people, Draco, you realize that, right?"

"Yeah, I know. I'm not stupid, alright? And believe me when I say that this is probably at least as weird for me as it is for you. You're about the last person I would have talked to before this year."

"Well, me and Harry," Hermione pointed out.

"I'm still not talking to Potter," Draco said. "I'm confused, not brainwashed."

"Oh great," Hermione said. "There's still some of the old Draco left."

"Why? You like to see the old Draco?" he asked with a faint leer.

"Hmmm… Yeah, I suppose so," Hermione said, suppressing a grin. "Bound and gagged, preferably. Or unconscious covered in feathers and slugs like on the train last year."

"Hey!" Draco protested.

"What?" Hermione asked. "You completely deserved that. Remember what you said that day?"

Draco began to shake his head, but stopped and flushed slightly.

"Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I remember. No wonder you don't trust me."

"I do trust you, a little," Hermione admitted. "Not completely, not by a long shot, but there's four years of nastiness to deal with. You weren't on the receiving end, so it's probably easier for you to forget it happened."

"And you're going to keep throwing it up in my face, are you?"

"No, of course not. Well, I'll try not to, as long as you don't do anything to remind me of it. Besides, you need to be knocked down a few pegs sometimes. Keep that ego in check."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were teasing me, Granger."

"What, tease the Mighty Draco Malfoy? The cheek!" Hermione grinned. "At least it got you out of your mood."

"Mood?"

"Cheered you up, distracted you."

"And you're concerned about cheering me up?" he asked.

"Well, not exactly," Hermione said. "Just don't think you should dwell on the bad things of the past too much. I saw how much it upset you and I think it's better not to focus on that whole incident."

"I'd rather not focus on it myself," Draco said. "But it keeps coming back. It's hard not to think about it sometimes, like it's always in the back of my mind, no matter what I'm doing."

"Maybe it'll will be better now that you've told someone. I know it sounds dumb, but once you talk about it, figure out what's so upsetting, you'll be able to deal with it. And then it will bother you less. It won't go away, but it'll be less constant."

"And you know this how?" Draco asked.

"Not from personal experience. But I read a lot of stuff about psychology, the study of people's minds and emotions. Because of what happened with Harry at the end of last year," she explained. "I wanted to know how to help him deal with all of that, all the bad things, the death. And so I read about it. And he and I talked some over the summer. And talking through everything and how he felt really helped him, I think."

"I don't like talking about how I feel."

"Too manly to get in touch with your emotions, huh?"

"What?" Draco asked, perplexed.

"Muggle nonsense," Hermione explained. "Why don't you talk about how you feel?"

"Because emotions make you weak."

"And so you don't admit you have them," Hermione finished, nodding. "Well, that's pretty much the Muggle nonsense I was talking about. But I'll be ready with an 'I told you so' when you tell me you are less upset after telling me about the incident. But we should go. We've been here for ages, and Madame Pince is probably going to lock us in soon, if she hasn't already."

* * * * * * *

Draco began to pack his books away, smiling at Hermione's jokes and teasing tone. He wasn't going to admit it now, but he did feel a little bit better having finally told someone. Having told Hermione, he realized with a small jolt.

They pair made their way out of the library in silence, ducking their heads to avoid Madame Pince's pointed glare as she extinguished the lanterns lighting the large room. Draco's robes had barely cleared the door frame when the library doors slammed behind him and he heard a key turning in the lock.

"She doesn't live in there, does she?" he asked Hermione, perplexed.

"I hope not," Hermione responded, although she looked uncertain. "That would require being a bit too devoted to your job, wouldn't it?"

"Just a little," Draco said, smiling. "Scary concept." He paused, feeling awkward. "Can I walk you back to your tower?"

"No, thanks," Hermione said, turning to go. "I think I can find my way."

"Don't want to be seen with me in public…" Draco wasn't sure why he was pushing the issue.

"Don't be silly," Hermione said, but her cheeks colored slightly.

"I'm not. Just let me walk you back, okay. That way I'll know you made it safely."

"Yeah, cuz it's so dangerous to walk the halls of Hogwarts," Hermione said sarcastically, but she didn't rebuff him when he fell in step beside her.

"It has been," Draco pointed out. "It's not like the school's been very peaceful since your friend Potter got here."

"It's not Harry's fault that people are trying to kill him," Hermione snapped. "It's…"

"People like my father," Draco finished for her in a flat voice. "I know. Don't think I don't realize that. At least it's been safe this year."

Hermione made a strange noise, but when Draco looked over at her, she was nodding in agreement.

"I want you to know that I don't think it's right that they put so many innocent students in danger. If they're after Potter, they should just go for him."

            "Oh, that's nice to know. It's a bad thing that they made our lives dangerous and terrifying, but it's okay to try to kill my best friend. Great."

            "That's not what I meant, Hermione," Draco said shortly. He stopped walking and grabbed her elbow, turning her to face him. "You know that. What I was trying to say is that they have a specific target. Harming the whole school is an ineffective way of reaching their goal."

            "So this is all some kind of textbook exercise to you?" Hermione pulled her arm free from Draco and started to walk again.

            "No it's not, and that's what I realized this summer. Please, Hermione, listen."

Draco put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her to a stop. When he turned her to face him, she wouldn't meet his eyes, so he reached out a hand and tilted her chin up until she met his gaze. He dropped his hand at the sight of her glare, but he spoke earnestly.

            "What I'm trying to say is that I realize that all of the death and destruction, all the injuries and torturing that the Death Eaters do – it isn't all necessary. Some of them even do it for fun, for the joy of causing chaos or pain. And that's completely wrong. I plan on being a powerful and important man when I grow up, but I'm starting to realize that there are some places where I draw the line."

            Hermione was looking skeptical, and Draco reached out and grabbed her free hand. Her expression changed to surprise, but Draco refused to let go as he tried to press his point.

"I know that in past I was just like those people. Or I thought I was. I would say, I would _believe_, everything that they said about killing and getting rid of all the Muggles. I even thought that what they did was cool in some way. That it was part of being a powerful and ruthless person. Part of being a Malfoy. But it was never real to me. It was all a game. Now that I've actually seen a person being tortured and killed…

"I could never do what I saw my father and his friends doing. I know this now, and that has made me realize that there a lot of other things that they do and believe I don't agree with. I don't agree that we should get rid of Muggles, or kill them. You've made your points there well. I don't see why we can't just avoid them and let be. As for people like you, who come from Muggle families, well, it's the same thing."

"You're going to avoid me?" Hermione asked, sarcasm heavy in her voice. "And this is a change of attitude how?"

"No! Aren't you listening to me?" Draco asked, frustrated. "I'm saying that I don't think that people from Muggle families should be killed. It's not right. It makes even less sense than hating Muggles. You're a witch, same as the rest of us."

"Thanks for noticing," Hermione's voice was no less cold, but she had stopped trying to pull her hand from Draco's.

"So why not just keep the Muggle world separate from the wizarding world, and let be. As long as the Muggles and Muggle-borns aren't a danger to us, I don't see why we have to harm them. Which isn't what my father thinks, let me tell you."

"Well, your father seems to think we're dangerous for no reason at all."

"I'm not here to argue about what my father believes, Hermione," Draco said impatiently. "Aren't you happy that I've had a change of heart? Isn't that what you wanted?"

"I don't think you could ever grasp what I want, Draco," Hermione said dryly. "Maybe once you've spent several years living in a society where sizeable portions of it hate you or look down on you for something you have no control over. Then you might be able to understand some small amount of it."

"Okay, then at least let me say that I don't think any less of you for being of Muggle parents, not anymore."

"Well, thank you Draco. I'm glad that you've realized it's a stupid prejudice, but you're only one person."

"I can't do anything about that," he pointed out angrily.

"I know you can't," Hermione said with a sigh. "And I don't expect for the prejudices to ever go away completely. But it's not exactly fun to live with, always being judged."

"You think I don't understand that?" Draco asked. "Look, I've lived all my life as Lucius Malfoy's son. And when I wasn't that, I was a Slytherin. I'd always taken pride in these things, but sometimes people hate you for them."

Draco pulled Hermione to the side of the corridor and dropped his book bag. He let go of her hand and sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. After a moment, she put her books down as well and sat down beside him.

"Okay, Draco, why don't you tell me about being a poor misunderstood rich boy."

"I'm not about to tell you if you start off like that," he said sharply and Hermione grimaced.

"Fine. So you've lived with prejudice as well. I'll buy that," she said. "But I don't see how it could compare with what I've had to deal with. At least the things that people hated you for are, like you said, things you take pride in. Took pride in."

"Yeah, they are. Were. I'm still proud of being a Slytherin. We're a great house, a strong house, and all of our members have gone on to power."

"If you call being hated and feared power," Hermione said waspishly.

"Well, you've got to admit that even the ones you hate, my father and his friends, they've got power and influence. Doesn't matter if you like how they use it."

"I guess I can't really argue with that. But I don't have much respect for it."

"That's why you're not in Slytherin."

"Well, that and the fact that on the train I was told that being Muggle-born _and_ in Slytherin was as bad as it gets. I was terrified that I would answer the hat wrong and get stuck in Slytherin."

"Answer the hat?" Draco asked, confused.

"Look, I didn't know what the hat did; I thought it would be like a quiz, okay? Half the upper years spent the entire train trip making up stories about how the hat made its choice. I think someone even mentioned troll wrestling," Hermione made a face.

"Well, that's one you wouldn't have had a problem with, is it?" Draco grinned. Hermione reached out an arm and shoved him gently, but grinned back nonetheless.

"Anyway, we were talking about being judged," Hermione pointed out.

"Which is what the hat does, so we're right on topic," Draco replied.

"You know what I mean, Draco. So why don't you make your point?"

"Fine. You're no fun," Draco said as Hermione glared at him. "Okay, okay. Look, I've had expectations placed on me from the very beginning and they're hard to live up to. I'm always expected to be the best at everything because I'm a Malfoy. Some days I would wish that I was anything but a Malfoy. Especially when you got the highest grades, or Potter got all the attention for something or other. I was a failure then, a disappointment. I've spent so many years trying to please my father and live up to what he wants me to be. I don't know if I'll ever be good enough for him. Sometimes I think that I'll never live up to all that he expects me to be. But I try. I put on the right face and do everything I can."

"And so you've done everything he wanted you to, you've followed him blindly and tried to become him? Even if it's not really you? I got it. But I think that's a different situation from what I have to live with," Hermione said heatedly.

"I'm not saying it's the same. I'm just saying that I've lived with some pretty unreasonable expectations just because of who my father is."

"Expectations from your father," Hermione pointed out.

"Yeah, him and everyone else. I've heard you and your friends talking. You all expected me to be just like him. Don't tell me that you didn't figure I was your enemy just because of my name and my house."

"Well, that and the fact that you threatened me," Hermione responded.

"Fine. Yeah. But you guys thought that all the other Slytherins were like my father, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I guess we did," Hermione admitted.

"I know for a fact that that's not true. There's actually not that many people in my house who are from families like mine. Yeah we might think we're superior, but that's cuz Slytherins are generally powerful people."

"We've covered this," Hermione said.

"What I'm trying to point out is that there's a prejudice there. I'm proud of my house, but lots of the school hates us. So I do have some understanding of what you've dealt with, what it's like to have people hate you for no real reason."

"Alright, I'll grant you that. I still don't think that you could ever understand what it's like to be from a Muggle family in the wizarding world," Hermione said.

"Well, maybe you could explain it to me someday? I'd like to know, if that's okay with you."

"I guess. This is still so strange to me," Hermione admitted with small chuckle. "You wanting to understand how anti-Muggle prejudice affects people. I keep expecting to have someone pop out from around the corner and tell me I'm on Candid Camera."

Draco looked at her, puzzled.

"Sorry, Muggle reference. I'll explain that one too, next time we meet. As for now, I really do have to get back to my tower. The fun never ends."

To illustrate her remark, she pushed off from the floor and picked up her book bag. Draco sighed, having hoped for more discussion. He stood and rubbed his eyes, which were feeling strangely gritty. He leaned down to pick up his book bag and turned to continue walking to the Gryffindor part of the castle. Hermione joined him, then took a step and turned to face him

"You don't have to walk me the rest of the way. I'll be fine. Look, you go find some hot chocolate and get some sleep. You like you might need it."

"Yes mother," Draco mocked.

"Sod off! You just look like death warmed over right now. I suppose it's the result of being pale as a fish belly."

"Oh, hey! That's rich coming from a girl whose hair looks like she's been electrocuted!"

"Least I don't slick mine down with a gallon of gel every morning. Doubt your hair would move in a wind storm."

"Whereas yours always looks like you just got out of one."

"Points off for lack of originality. You already mocked the hair, try something else."

Draco stopped suddenly, his next insult lost as he registered what Hermione had said.

"There are points?" he asked, confused.

"Nah," Hermione said. "I just spent too much time with the Weasley's this summer. Fred and George can insult each other for hours. It's practically a sport for them. I guess I picked up more of it than I thought."

"Well, I never really expected Hermione Granger to lower herself to a slanging match, so yeah, I'd say they're a bad influence on you."

"Fine by me," Hermione replied with a grin. "But I should get going. It's late and I still have things to do. I'll see you in class."

"Okay," Draco replied as she turned and hurried away.

He watched her retreating back for a moment, then shook his head and started walking towards the stairs leading to the Slytherin common room.

* * * * * * *

When Draco reached the Slytherin area of the castle, he found the central common room deserted, though the fire was still burning merrily. He tossed his book bag onto a table in one corner and moved to the cupboards by the fire. Rifling through the contents, he drew out a mug and a packet of chocolate powder. A few minutes later, he had mixed the powder with heated milk provided by a house elf and was curled up on the couch staring into the fire.

Draco was almost asleep when a sound caused his arm to jerk, spilling his rapidly cooling drink across his sleeve. Cursing under his breath, he sat up and scrubbed at his sleeve, looking around the room for the source of the noise. Much to his surprise, a guilty looking Pansy Parkingston was the culprit. She was trying to sneak across the room to the girls' dorm, but gave up when she realized he'd seen her.

"Hey Draco," she said, walking to the couch and sitting beside him. "That cocoa? Got any more?"

"Yeah, just get Beezler to bring you some milk and I'll mix you some."

Pansy summoned the Slytherin house elf while Draco pulled another package of chocolate from his shelf, grabbing Pansy a mug as well.

"So what are you doing, creeping in barely ten minutes before curfew?" he asked once they'd sorted out beverages.

"Nothing," Pansy replied, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "Just working on my potions homework."

"Oh, yeah, the essay. You're working with that Gryffindor boy…"

"Neville."

"Ah, Neville. He's the clumsy one, right? Always blowing stuff up in class and such."

"He's not clumsy," Pansy said, defensively. "Snape makes him really nervous, so he gets confused and makes mistakes. It's not his fault."

"Sure, Panse," Draco said with a smile. "So you two were studying all night, huh?"

"Exactly, working on our essay in the library."

"Really?" Draco drawled, watching the pink in Pansy cheek deepen. "That's funny, cuz I was in the library until it closed an hour ago, and I didn't see you. What happened, Neville get you lost on your way back?"

"No," Pansy snapped. "We stopped in one of the classrooms and talked, okay? And don't insult Neville, alright? He's a good guy. I know you hate the Gryffindors, but I think that some of them are okay. Shoot me."

Pansy slammed her mug down on the end table and stood up, turning towards the stairs. Draco looked at her in surprise, then stood as well and grabbed her by the shoulder before she could leave the room.

"Woah, Pansy, calm down. I was just making a joke. Teasing you. I figured you had had an assignation in the Astronomy Tower or something."

Pansy let Draco pull her back to the sofa and sat down. When she looked up, her cheeks were fiery red.

"We didn't go to the Astronomy Tower," she said, with a shy smile.

"But you had an assignation?" Draco asked, taken aback. "You're dating that Neville guy? Really?"

"Yeah, I think I am," Pansy said defiantly. "I'm dating 'that Neville guy' really. I know he's not anyone important or someone I should be dating, but I like him. And he's really nice to me, and he understands stuff…

"And I don't want you to make any nasty remarks. I'll get enough of those when I tell my parents. And I don't care that he's a Gryffindor or that he's not famous or important. I've figured out that sometimes that stuff's not all that important."

Draco gaped at her, completely surprised. This was the girl he had pretend to date for almost a year because her family wanted her aligned with the Malfoy name. He had always assumed that she was as concerned with advancement as he was.

"Look Draco," Pansy continued, seeming a little more calm. "I'm not saying that I'm not planning on going places. You're still looking at the future head of the Department of Mysteries here. I'm just saying that I'd rather date someone I like than, well, date you cuz it's good for my social standing."

"Your parents are going to kill you," Draco pointed out.

"Well, not kill me. They aren't Death Eaters after all," Pansy joked, not noticing as Draco's face went chalk white. "I know they're not going to be thrilled, but I figure that it's time for me to start making my own decisions and living for myself. And if they really don't like it - well, I'll go spend summers with my big sister instead."

Pansy stood and put her mug on the tray the house elf used to collect dirty dishes.

"Anyway, I really should go up to bed. I didn't really get any of my other homework done and so I'll have to wake up early to get to the library before breakfast." She blushed slightly. "Worth it, though… Thanks for the hot chocolate, Draco. See you in the morning."

Draco managed to produce a response and watched Pansy leave the room feeling somewhat stunned. He was fairly sure he'd been dumped, not that he and Pansy had actually been a social couple this year but they had had an understanding. But more importantly, one of his housemates was dating a Gryffindor. What had happened to the fact that Slytherins hated Gryffindors and vice versa?

Draco stared into the fire, absently drinking his nearly cold chocolate. On further thought, he realized that for the past several weeks, there had been few people in the common room at any hour. But there were always loads of people hanging out in the main courtyard, in the hallways, in empty classrooms. And at the opening Quidditch game that season, Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw, the stands had not been their usual unified clumps of color. While the two competing houses were across from each other, there had been scarves of every color on each side. The houses were mixing, Draco realized. In his preoccupied state, it had escaped his notice.

This was just one more thing to add to his confusion. He hadn't even realized over the past few weeks that the school had been changing. Of course, the fact that his few friends were not participating in this new found openness had helped to disguise it from him. The thought of Crabbe and Goyle chumming up with a bunch of Hufflepuffs made Draco snort. Those two were so convinced of the innate superiority of Slytherin house that they, like Draco, hadn't even contemplated being sorted into a different house than their fathers. Probably more accurate, he realized, was the fact that Goyle and Crabbe hadn't even considered that they would do anything other than exactly what their fathers had done, and that was what had put them into Slytherin.

It didn't seem that things had been any different in his case. He had simply known that he would follow in his father's footsteps, as that was the best way to guarantee his future success. So he had become friends with his father's friends' sons and had been paired off with a girl from an acceptably powerful family. Draco had never even had to consider what he was going to do in the future, and this fact scared him now. Now that he was doubting the validity of the future that had been set out for him.

There were other ways to advance to power besides following Voldemort, he knew. Draco had heard enough rants from his father about those in power who did not believe as he did to realize that there were many past Slytherins who had advanced to very important positions without being Death Eaters. Some of them were even directly opposed to Voldemort and his followers, having realized the threat the Death Eaters posed to their current positions.

Of course, now Draco had to make a choice that he really didn't want to make. As much as what his father had done repulse him, Draco wasn't entirely certain he was willing to abandon a path which might lead to a position of influence. Would following his father really be the best way to gain the power and respect he wanted? The more Hermione voiced her opinions, the more Draco realized how some people saw his father. He wasn't entirely certain that he wanted his future status to be entirely based on fear, rather than respect for his abilities. And regardless of that, what good would following his father do him? Even if the Death Eaters did come out victorious, Draco himself would be so far down the chain of command that he'd never receive the recognition he craved. He would still live in his father's shadow, clinging to Lucius Malfoy's coat tails and following his orders. It wasn't how Draco wanted to live.

Exactly how he did want to live wasn't something Draco was ready to contemplate quite yet though. He was still shaken to the foundations by the things he had seen, the doubts that he had been fostering. How much of what he had said and done had been his own actions and how much had been parroting his father's behavior. If he had simply been behaving how Lucius would want, it was almost as bad as Crabbe and Goyle with their unquestioning acceptance and unthinking loyalties. Draco had no desire to be a sheep, of that he was certain, or of following rather than leading.

Draco stood and placed his mug next to Pansy's. As he climbed the stairs to his dormitory, he realized that while he might not be able to make his decision tonight at least he would sleep well. He hadn't slept properly in months, thanks to the nightmares that had been plaguing him since that night in August. But tonight he wasn't dreading going to sleep, he wasn't afraid to close his eyes for fear he'd re-live that horrible experience.

Hermione had been right. Finally telling her everything had lifted a shadow from his life he hadn't even realized was there. The difficult decisions he had to make seemed a little less frightening now that he had Hermione to help him through.

* * * * * * *


	6. Chapter Six

Hermione was sitting at dinner a few days after her bizarre confrontation with Draco. She was still confused as to why she had told him the things that she had, why she had opened up to someone she had loathed for four years. Even if the potions she and Draco had drunk were not exactly the friendship draughts that the rest of the class had consumed, they were certainly having some strange effect on her. And on Draco, for that matter. His revelations that night had shocked her, the horrors that he had seen, but almost as shocking was his comment about trusting her. Hermione was having a hard time believing what he had said, except that she knew that she was starting to feel a trust in Draco that should have been impossible considering their past history.  
  
Snape kept delaying his administering the neutralizing potion for some bizarre reason, though most of the class didn't seem to care. Ron wasn't thrilled, but he had developed avoiding Crabbe into a fine art and so didn't have to deal with the awkward situations that had plagued the first few weeks of the experiment. In fact, Ron seemed to have gone back to disliking Crabbe as much as he had in past. Hermione's theory was that Crabbe had mixed the potion wrong and it had been too weak, while Ron declared he didn't care what it was that had gone wrong so long as he didn't have to deal with Crabbe in any way, shape, or form.  
  
*Thunk*  
  
Hermione's hand jerked, nearly spilling her pumpkin juice, as Harry dropped his books on the bench beside her.  
  
"Sorry Hermione," he said, as he sat, "Didn't mean to scare you. So, ready for your night of watch duty?"  
  
"Oh yes, I'm very much looking forward to it," she said sarcastically. "Sitting all night on the cold stone floor, not getting enough sleep, and then trying not to doze off in class tomorrow."  
  
"Hey, we agreed that you would only have to do one weeknight. Ron and I both get two sleepless nights. Between that and that bloody fireplace in Trelawney's tower I've fallen asleep in every Divination class this month."  
  
"At least you don't miss much in that class. And it makes it easier to ignore that old bat's death predictions," Ron said as he joined them at the table.  
  
Hermione glared at him briefly for making rude remarks about a teacher, but he just shrugged and said "What? You think she's a fake too."  
  
She didn't bother to answer him, instead turning to Harry.  
  
"So I'll come get the map and the invisibility cloak from you after I'm done my homework, right?"  
  
"Sure, or whenever is convenient. He never seems to do anything before curfew anyway, so if you want to keep an eye on him from the common room until then there shouldn't be any problem."  
  
"Actually, he doesn't seem to have done anything interesting over the past several days, period," Ron put in. "I've got to wonder if he's given up or something."  
  
"We should be so lucky," Harry grimaced. "Would make our lives way easier if Collier just left Wormtail in the woods to starve, but I'm not seeing that happen."  
  
"Well, I hope he gives me a quiet night tonight. I don't feel like going wandering around too much. I'm convinced that Mrs. Norris can see through the cloak. I had way too many near misses with Filch the last couple times I did this."  
  
"Don't worry, Hermione. I'll bet you the rest of my sugar quills that Collier doesn't leave the Slytherin common room at all tonight. Nothing exciting will happen," Ron said, reassuringly.  
  
"I hope you're right. I have way too much homework to think about to deal with anything exciting tonight."  
  
Harry groaned. "Ugh, I'd forgotten about the Potions projects. As much as I would rather put a hand in bubotuber pus than work with Goyle, I wish I had a partner to split the work with."  
  
"Yeah, well at least you get to hand in shorter essays when you're on your own," Ron grumped, "I'm doing the work of two people."  
  
"It was your choice," Hermione pointed out.  
  
"Like there was any choice, between two extra feet of essay or working with Crabbe. I still can't figure out how you can stand to work with Malfoy. That must be torture."  
  
Hermione stared intently at her plate. "It's not so bad. The potion seems to be working really well, so we don't have many problems."  
  
"It still can't be good," Harry said, "working with the guy who wants us all dead."  
  
"He doesn't," Hermione said quietly.  
  
"What? I didn't catch that," Ron asked.  
  
"He doesn't want us dead," Hermione said, a little more clearly.  
  
"Oh really?" Harry drawled. "Like I believe that. This is Malfoy we're talking about. 'Death to Muggles and everyone else who isn't pureblood' Malfoy. The guy who tried to get Dumbledore fired."  
  
"He didn't try to get Dumbledore fired," Hermione responded. "That was his dad."  
  
"But what about that thing with Hagrid and Buckbeak?" Ron asked. "That was all Malfoy. Nasty little wanker."  
  
"Maybe the potion's working a little too well on you, Hermione," Harry said, trying sound reasonable. "You're the last person in this school who should be defending Malfoy. Well, you and Ginny."  
  
"But that wasn't Draco either," Hermione said again. "It was his dad. Can't you see that you're getting the two of them confused?"  
  
"Draco?" Ron asked with a look of shock. "You call him Draco?"  
  
"And anyway, does it matter that it was his dad," Harry asked, "since Malfoy's just like him? He's still a nasty wanna-be Death Eater, Hermione. You can't forget that."  
  
"I don't know if he is, guys," Hermione said, watching their disbelieving faces. "If you'd heard some of the things that he's said to me, some of the things he's been thinking about. I really don't know if he's all that we think he is."  
  
"Oh boy," Ron sighed. "Snape has to give us that antidote soon. This potion is really messing with your head, Hermione.  
  
Harry nodded in agreement, and the two of them started talking about their homework for the next day. Hermione sat lost in thought, wondering if there was any chance that Draco's change of heart was entirely down to the potion. It couldn't be, she thought, because of the horrible events he had told her about in their most recent meeting. But she'd promised him that she would keep it a secret, so she couldn't even use it convince her friends that she wasn't under some enchantment. Hermione sighed in frustration. And as if the argument she'd just had hadn't been pointless enough, she had an entire night of staring at an unmoving dot on the Marauder's Map to look forward to.  
  
Draco sat in the Slytherin common room, idly flipping through the pages of his Herbology textbook. He'd done all his homework for the night, but he was too wired to fall asleep so he'd decided to read ahead in his more boring subjects. Herbology could make him drowsy on its most exciting day, and if that book didn't work he was contemplating opening the divination books that he hadn't touched since the beginning of the term. What a stupid class that was, he thought, and deadly dull. At least batty old Trelawney had stopped predicting people's deaths so much. She must have realized that none of the Slytherins took her seriously, and that the Hufflepuffs they shared the time slot with didn't take well to death omens after the events of the Triwizard Tournament.  
  
Draco looked up as the door of the boys' dormitory slammed. There had been many complaints about it, but the house elves never seemed to fix the door's habit of crashing closed. Draco figured it was a deterrent against students slipping out of the dormitory after curfew. Not that that had ever stopped him, or anyone with an ounce of brains. Of course, the pair coming down the stairs had never been accused of having enough brains to think of holding onto the door handle to let it close silently. Crabbe and Goyle were trudging down the stairs in that plodding gait of theirs. And right behind was a face Draco really didn't want to see.  
  
Jamie Collier was only a second year, but he had an air of entitlement that reminded Draco strongly of Lucius. The kid tried to lord over all the other students of Slytherin. And it seemed Goyle and Crabbe were now acting as his honour guard. Draco didn't really care; he'd been avoiding the two lunkheads for weeks now. They had never been stunning conversationalists, and it seemed that their brains had shrunk even further over the summer. After a couple of weeks, Draco had gotten so sick of their sniggering speculations about how the school would be changed when You Know Who came back. The two had barely three brain cells between them, but their imagination was unlimited when it came to violence, mayhem, and how the school would be when they were in charge. As if anyone would let the Crabbe and Goyle make decisions past what socks to wear. They even screwed that one up, Draco thought with a smirk, remembering how Goyle had a tendency to confuse his 'clean' and 'dirty' clothing piles.  
  
"Thinking of new insults for that Mudblood Snape stuck you with?"  
  
Draco shook his head slightly and looked up into the pale blue eyes of Jamie Collier.  
  
"What?" he asked, surprised at being thrown off balance by this second year, of all people.  
  
"That Potions' project that Vincent and Gregory have been telling me about, with those friendship potions. What a ridiculous project. What was Snape thinking?" Collier turned and stared into the fire. "Why, people might think that this was all a plan to encourage these ridiculous inter-house friendships. Really, if Snape doesn't end the project soon, people are going to start doubting him again."  
  
Draco stared at the younger student. Collier had never been subtle in his belief in the Death Eaters. He'd tried repeatedly to talk to Draco about it ever since arriving at Hogwarts. The previous year, Draco had ignored the brat because it wasn't worth his time to become friendly with a first year. Over the summer, Lucius had explained who Collier's father was, and Draco had been considering the value of forming a friendship with a kid whose father was so highly placed in the Department of Mysteries. But after seeing a man who looked remarkably like the stocky blond boy help kill that Muggle, Draco could barely meet Collier's eyes.  
  
It had been very awkward, these past two months, avoiding Collier's repeated attempts at conversation. Whenever the second year had brought up the subject of Death Eaters, or You Know Who, or even just purebloods, Draco muttered something about how his father wanted him to keep a low profile, not to be too obvious. He wasn't sure if Collier believed him, but at least it gave Draco the ability to slip away. Tonight, though, it looked as though it might be harder to get rid of him.  
  
"I'm really surprised you haven't complained to Snape yet, Malfoy," Collier was saying. "It's not as though you could possibly want to still be working with that. thing. Why didn't you just do like Vincent did and make the Mudblood do all the projects by itself? As far as I can tell, that's the only thing it's good for. Hideous excuse for a female, with that hair and everything. I really wish I'd been there to see that day when you made its teeth grow like that. Gregory here says it was quite a sight to see."  
  
Goyle grunted in agreement from his position behind the chair Collier had occupied. With the two older boys looming behind him, the blond boy looked like some child king out of a history book. Draco couldn't shake the idea that the boy probably had a fair bit of power to go with the air of superiority and entitlement he wore like a cloak. Nor could he ignore the thought that looking at this little brat was probably a lot like looking back at himself a few years before. It wasn't that he minded the boy's tactics, in fact Draco figured there were a few things the two of them could teach each other, but Collier was invading turf that had been Draco's until this year. And more importantly, he was being pretty obvious in his loyalties and was questioning those of other people at a time when Draco couldn't decide which way to go. Collier was potentially a serious threat, and Draco wasn't sure how to handle him.  
  
"Well, Jamie," Draco drawled condescendingly. "I don't feel that it's my place to question Professor Snape. He probably has good reason for making the other students so complacent. I wouldn't be surprised if he sneaks us Slytherins the antidote but leaves the rest of the school enchanted. It would make them more vulnerable.  
  
"And as for the Granger girl," he continued, searching his mind desperately for more excuses, "well, it's fun to toy with her. I think I might have her starting to trust me a little bit now. It will all worth it when I use her to get at Potter."  
  
"Oh, so that's the plan," Collier exclaimed.  
  
Draco nodded, relieved that the boy had bought the lies. He hoped desperately that Collier wouldn't ask for further details of the plan, since Draco didn't think he could come up with anything more off the top of his head. The Herbology book seemed to have dulled his brain.  
  
"Well, I have to say that that's even more cunning than I would have thought," Collier continued. "I wonder if we could trick that Weasley twit into the same situation with Vincent here."  
  
"Oh, I don't think that Crabbe's abilities lie in the area of undercover work," Draco snorted. "Why don't we let him do the simple work while we do the thinking?"  
  
"Too true," Collier agreed. "Not terribly intellectual, are you Vincent?"  
  
Crabbe shook his head.  
  
"Don't want to be," he grunted. "Too much work."  
  
"Absolutely. Well, I have to make a run to the library," Draco said, gathering his books. "I think I must have forgot one of my Divination books there. I'll see you three later."  
  
"But the library closes in barely fifteen minutes," Collier said, rising from his chair. "Why don't you get it tomorrow? We can have a chat about some ideas my father has shared with me about finding more students who are sympathetic to the Dark Lord."  
  
"I think we'll have to do that another time, I really have to get this book," Draco said, heading for the door. He stopped and turned suddenly, surprising the younger boy who had been following him.  
  
"And how many times do I have to tell you," Draco said, glaring at Collier. "We do not talk of those things in a public place. My father doesn't want to take any risks while this school is still run by Dumbledore."  
  
"Ah yes, the Muggle-loving old fool. Fine. But we will talk later, Malfoy. Count on it."  
  
Draco practically ran from the room. He hoped that Collier blamed the haste on the fact that the library was soon to close, not because Draco wanted to put as much space between himself and the second year boy as possible. He was hurrying down one of the dimly lit corridors outside of the Slytherin tower's entrance when he tripped over an unseen obstacle and went flying.  
  
Sitting up and rubbing at the palms he had skinned braking his fall, Draco looked back down the hallway to see what had tripped him. Staring at him in shock was Hermione Granger.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Draco asked as he gathered the books that had scattered as he fell.  
  
"Um... Studying." Hermione replied, waving a book. He looked at her in confusion.  
  
"Why were you in such a hurry?" she asked quickly.  
  
"Trying to get away from Collier." he answered distractedly. "But why are you studying down here? This is Slytherin Territory."  
  
"If you paid any attention to the world around you, you'd have noticed that the school isn't divided up like that any more. Besides, it's quieter here than up by Gryffindor."  
  
Hermione shuffled on the floor, trying to hide the invisibility cloak that she had pulled off when Draco had tripped over her foot. She stuffed it into her satchel, hoping not to attract too much attention. Fortunately, Draco seemed preoccupied with his own thoughts as he piled his books neatly beside her. Sitting with his back against the wall, he lifted his hands. Hermione noticed that his palms were scraped raw from skidding on the floor.  
  
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she exclaimed. "Let me take a look."  
  
Without thinking, Hermione grabbed Draco's left hand to take a closer look at the damage.  
  
"I don't know many healing spells," she admitted, "but I can clean them for you. Just until you go to Madame Pomfrey."  
  
"I don't really need to go to the nurse," Draco objected. "They aren't that bad."  
  
Hermione didn't notice the odd look that passed over Draco's face as she brought out a handkerchief and began to dab gently at the raw patches on his palms. She took a bottle of water from her satchel and dampened the small cloth. Leaning again to cradle his injured hand, Hermione was surprised to hear a small hiss. She looked up and saw that the blond boy had become more pale than usual and his teeth were tightly clenched.  
  
"Hurts?" she asked.  
  
"A little," he admitted. "I'll be fine. Just let me do it."  
  
"No, I don't mind. And besides," Hermione pointed out reasonably, " how do you plan to tie any bandages on?"  
  
"Look, you don't have to do this. I can take care of myself," Draco snapped, trying to pull his hand away.  
  
"Yes, but sometimes it's easier to let someone else take care of you for a little while. You are allowed to rely on other people now and then," Hermione said, tightening her grip on his hand, "and if you don't stop struggling, you're going to hurt yourself more. Stop fighting!"  
  
Draco's struggles faded under her glare, and he muttered something Hermione didn't catch as he turned over his other palm for her to look at.  
  
After cleaning away the dirt she could see, Hermione charmed her handkerchief to tear itself in half and tied the strips of cloth across Draco's injuries. The whole time she was puzzling over his earlier remark. She had watched as Collier had joined Draco in the Slytherin common room. She'd never seen them meeting before, but there was the possibility that previous encounters had happened on nights when Harry or Ron had been watching. Her friends wouldn't have mentioned the meetings because they were still convinced that Draco was part of the Death Eater Youth Brigade. Hermione felt her heart drop into her stomach as she watched to pair remain in the same room longer and longer. But what did Draco's off-hand remark mean? She was still trying to work it out as she tied the final knot.  
  
Draco flexed his hands, smiling at the tidy bandages Hermione had created. He was a bit take aback by her insistence over cleaning his hands. Taking care of other people wasn't something Draco had much experience with, and there weren't many people in his life that would have done what Hermione had. The thought of Goyle or Crabbe tending to his injuries was ridiculous. At home, his father was more likely to have criticized the clumsiness that caused the scrapes than to have cleaned the wounds. Narcissa had been a more caring parent, but once Draco had reached the age of ten, Lucius had taken over his son's upbringing, and Draco rarely saw his mother after that. He wasn't sure what to make of this situation, but Draco knew that it had felt nice, if weird, to have Hermione fuss over him.  
  
He shook his head suddenly. There had been something more important on his mind before Hermione had distracted him. He was still confused at her excuse for being down in the Slytherin dungeons. Studying. Didn't seem likely: There was only one pile of books near them, and they belonged to Draco. There was a scrap of parchment on the floor between them, but it looked blank, and the satchel beside her was stuffed full of some multicoloured fabric - some pretty robe or something.  
  
"So what are you doing down here anyway" Draco finally asked. "Just wanted to be near me? Or a secret crush on some other Slytherin?"  
  
"Huh?" Hermione looked blank. She shook her head. "No, I told you, I was look for a quiet place to study. It's too noisy everywhere else, so I came down here."  
  
"So what are you working on?" Draco asked, slowly reaching towards Hermione's bad. "Robe making? And I suppose this is your pattern."  
  
He grabbed the piece of parchment. Hermione lunged for him and tried to pull the paper from his hand. Draco tugged hard and the parchment came from Hermione's grasp.  
  
"What's this? Leaving love notes for some lucky Slytherin?" Draco smirked, but felt a tinge of anger at the thought. 'Let's see here."  
  
He flattened the paper out on the floor beside him as Hermione sank back against the wall on his other side. Draco's jaw dropped as he took in what was on the paper before him.  
  
"Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. The Marauder's Map?" his voice trailed off. "What is this thing?" he asked, turning back to the brown haired girl beside him. She shrugged but didn't answer.  
  
"It's a map, I can see that. But what are all of these things? Why do them have people's names?" Draco peered more closely at the map. As he watched a small dot moved. It was labeled Madame Pince and he watched in awe as the dot moved through the space marked 'Library' and into a smaller chamber that he reckoned was right behind the reference desk.  
  
"Oh wow. Madame Pince does live in the library! Scary."  
  
He looked over at Hermione, who was biting her lip as she watched him warily. "What on earth are you doing with something like this? Is it something to do with why you're hiding in the shadows down here? Is this what you were studying?"  
  
"Er. yes. Exactly." Hermione said, her face lighting up with something that looked suspiciously like relief. " I'm trying to work out the charms that make the map. It's an, um, extra credit project for Professor Flitwick. Learning about, um, mapping charms."  
  
Draco watched her nodding excitedly and pushed down the uncomfortable feeling that she wasn't telling the truth. After all the things they'd talked about, the secrets they're shared, he hoped she wasn't lying. He'd thought that the weird feeling of trust he had with Hermione was mutual. But if she was lying.  
  
"Okay, if you say so," he said finally. "But that doesn't explain why you're working down here. That's still bothering me."  
  
"Oh, that's easy," Hermione said, a smile crossing her face. "Flitwick doesn't want any other students to see the map. Can you imagine what would happen if people figured out how to make their own maps? It would be such a mess."  
  
Draco had to nod. The first thoughts that had crossed his mind had been of what kinds of mischief he could get up to if he had a map like that. It would be incredibly handy for sneaking around after curfew. Or for getting other people into trouble, since he could just watch and wait until they did something against the rules. It was probably a good thing Hermione was down in the Slytherin dungeons, rather than sharing the map with all of Gryffindor house, especially Potter.  
  
"So, have you had any great inspirations?" he asked finally.  
  
"Not really," Hermione admitted. "I've actually been watching what people are getting up to. I have a feeling the work in this map is a little advanced for me."  
  
"You're not saying that there's some form of magic Hermione Granger can't do?" Draco gasped in mock shock.  
  
"Oh shut up, Draco," Hermione grabbed the map from his hands. "It's only fifth year. I think that the people who made this map were a year or two ahead of us."  
  
"This was made by students? You must be kidding. Not someone who's here now, right?"  
  
"No, it's from years ago. No one we'd know now."  
  
"Huh. Well, it's really interesting. Hey, look, there's Snape! What's he doing going into the Transfiguration classroom? McGonagall would have a fit if she knew he was in there."  
  
Hermione smirked as Draco stared at the map. She was fairly sure that Professor McGonagall had no objections to Snape's presence in the classroom. The two teachers often met in McGonagall's private rooms, which seemed to be where Snape was heading at this moment. She didn't really want Draco to see a possible meeting, so she folded the map, ignoring his protests.  
  
"But that was about to get interesting!" Draco huffed. "We should go along and see if we can hear them fighting from the corridor."  
  
"I don't think so," Hermione said in her best 'prefect candidate' voice. "Running into either of them at this hour would be a very bad idea."  
  
"I suppose," Draco sighed, then grinned. "Spoil sport. If you got caught doing something fun and interesting, they'll have to declare a holiday in celebration of such a bizarre, unheard of event."  
  
"Oh shut it, Malfoy! I'm just trying to avoid getting caught wandering the halls at this time. Fred and George's tales of Filch are enough to inspire good behavior in, well, anyone but George and Fred."  
  
Draco smirked. "Some of us aren't so faint of heart. Call yourself a Gryffindor, do you? Where's that lion's heart?"  
  
"Waiting for a good cause." Hermione replied primly, causing Draco to snort with amusement.  
  
"Miss Priss," he mocked, grinning at her look of annoyance. "If I didn't know of all the stuff you've gotten up to with Potter, I'd think you were the most boring goody-goody in school. But it's late. If you're not going to risk losing points for something fun, you're not going to want to lose them for breaking curfew."  
  
"Same could be said to you, Draco," Hermione shot back. "Or is running from who ever it was worth risking it?"  
  
Draco looked at her, perplexed until he remembered what she was talking about. Hermione had driven all thoughts of the conversation in the common room out of his head.  
  
"Collier?" he scoffed. "No. He's just really, really irritating. Always want to talk about d. dumb stuff."  
  
Hermione stared at Draco for a moment. He had stuttered on the 'd' in dumb, almost as if intending to say something else. She was reminded of Ron's imitations of Crabbe, the Slytherin stumbling over words in his attempts to not talk about Death Eaters. Perhaps it was her discussion with Ron and Harry at dinner, but she had a bad feeling about the meeting she had watched between Collier and Draco in the Slytherin common room.  
  
"Well, he is just a kid, Draco," Hermione pointed out. "I find most of the lower years' conversations incredibly tedious. But I've rarely run blindly from even the stupidest twelve-year-old."  
  
"I wasn't running blindly!"  
  
"Well, you sure managed trip over me in a fairly convincing manner." Hermione bit her lip, knowing that there had been no way Draco could have seen her. But she wanted to get to the truth.  
  
"Okay, fine, I was in a bit of a hurry. But you haven't had to deal with twelve-year-olds like Collier. He's pushy and obnoxious, and he's always cornering me, trying to get me to talk about things I'd rather not talk about.  
  
"Things you'd rather not talk about? Like the stuff we've been talking about?" Hermione asked bluntly, hoping she had made the right choice.  
  
Draco didn't respond to, but started to fiddle with the buttons on his robe. He glared intently at his hands for several moments, until finally raising his head.  
  
"Yes, Granger, like the stuff we've been talking about." His voice had gone cold, distant. "Going to turn us all in for being Death Eaters now?"  
  
Hermione stared at Draco, not understanding his animosity, wondering what had happened to the light hearted humour of just a few moments before.  
  
"No," she said, "of course not. That's not why I was asking. I just thought."  
  
"You just thought that whenever two Slytherins get together we start hailing You-Know-Who and plotting death and destruction for all Muggles. Of course. Everyone knows that we're all training in some Death Eater Junior League. D'you want to see my badge, learn the secret wand-wave?"  
  
Draco couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice. He knew it wasn't fair to Hermione, but he was angry with her for being right. It didn't make any sense, but it bothered him to have her know about his encounters with Collier. He didn't want to be involved in the conversations in the first place, he wanted nothing to do with those people anymore, but to Hermione it would look like he was. like he was living up to her friend's expectations, becoming like his father.  
  
"Again, no, Draco," Hermione repeated. "That's not what I meant at all. It's just that everyone knows that Collier is a big Muggle-hater. People say he might even be worse than y."  
  
"Worse than me?" Draco snarled at her, his cheeks burning. "He'll be pleased to hear that, now won't he? Creepy little git."  
  
"But you aren't like that now, right? You keep saying it," Hermione's voice was pleading, "and I believe you. Really I do."  
  
Draco glanced briefly at Hermione, ignoring her imploring look. Her words had calmed him down, but he still felt angry.  
  
"Really? No one else does. All your friends are convinced that it's just an act. I'm amazed they let you spend time me in case I'm a Death Eater spy. Go play with Potty and the Weasel, for all I care. Nothing I've said to you has meant anything, has it? You still think I'm like my father and Collier and all the rest. What was I thinking, telling you all that stuff? Trusting you?"  
  
"I'm trusting you too, stupid," Hermione snapped. "I trust that you're not a Death Eater spy. I know that you're not a Death Eater spy."  
  
"You." Draco trailed off, not even sure what he wanted to say.  
  
"Yes, I trust you. That's what you wanted to hear, right? I believe you," Hermione's voice was rising. "I know my friends have doubts. I had doubts. I still have a few."  
  
She held up a hand to stop his response. Draco settled back, his own anger and doubt fading under the onslaught of her passionate outburst.  
  
"But not about what you've told me. And I trust you enough to believe that you aren't a Death Eater in training. What you told me, the other day, it was enough to convince me. You don't want to hurt Muggles anymore, right? You don't want to worship Voldemort and be one of his servants."  
  
"Draco Malfoy will be no one's servant!"  
  
"Never doubted that for a moment," Hermione said, with an edge in her voice that made Draco look at her suspiciously.  
  
"Are you laughing at me?" he asked haughtily.  
  
"No, of course not," she replied, but then pressed her lips together very tightly as if suppressing a smile.  
  
"You are laughing at me," he accused. "You're making fun of me!"  
  
"I'm not making fun of you, I swear it," Hermione gasped, then snorted inelegantly. "But you'd laugh too if you could have seen yourself: 'Draco Malfoy Will Be No One's Servant!' It was very much high-and-mighty-Malfoy."  
  
Draco glared at her for a few moments, but found the last of his anger draining in the face of her amusement. After a minute he was grinning back at her laughing face.  
  
"High-and-mighty-Malfoy?" he asked. "Where did that come from?"  
  
"Mmm. well, sometimes when you're being particularly annoying and superior, well, that's how you're referred to in Gryffindor tower."  
  
"Good to see that even Gryffindors can appreciate quality," Draco said, trying to look serious.  
  
"You don't understand." Hermione looked perplexed. "It's because they don't think you're high."  
  
"I know, Hermione," Draco interrupted. "I know. It's like how we Slytherins call Potter 'The Famous Harry Potter.' It sure isn't because we like him."  
  
Hermione glared at him and opened her mouth to speak, but Draco cut her off.  
  
"Oh, don't get in a huff. He's just irritating, with his fame and his heroics and how everyone falls all over him. Don't you find it annoying sometimes, being friends with a super hero?"  
  
"No. Why should I? It's just Harry. It's not like he has any choice in the matter. If he weren't for his heroics, as you put it, he'd be dead, given all the stuff that's happened in the past few years."  
  
"Well, fine. But you have to understand that it's hard being at school with the most famous wizard in the world and the smartest witch ever. It's not like that leaves us Slytherins much to be the best at, and well, we're supposed to be the best."  
  
"Smartest witch ever?" Hermione said in a small voice.  
  
Draco stared down at her, watching a pale blush rise in her cheeks. She was looking at her knees as if they held the secret to world domination. He smiled and replied gently,  
  
"Yes, Hermione, the smartest witch ever. Don't pretend to be modest. We all know that you dance around your dormitory singing," he pitched his voice mockingly high, "I'm the best, I'm the best, Three Hundred and Twenty Percent, I'm the best."  
  
Hermione's head shot up and from the glare on her face Draco knew she was about to say something fairly nasty, so he put two fingers over her lips and continued in his normal voice.  
  
"Kidding, Hermione, I'm kidding. Everyone knows that you're irritatingly modest to go with the amazing marks. Almost as if even top of class isn't high enough for you."  
  
Hermione's lips parted against Draco's fingers, causing him to stare down at her mouth. He jerked his fingers away, surprised that he had touched her that way without even thinking. While Draco was attempted to order his suddenly muddled thoughts, Hermione spoke.  
  
"Some days, I think that top of the class isn't good enough," she started quietly. "I mean, to prove myself to everyone. I feel that with my background and everything, I have to be perfect."  
  
"Hermione, that's ridiculous," Draco interrupted. "No one expects you to be perfect."  
  
"I do," she admitted. "I have to be the best at classes. I mean, what else am I good at? I'm not like Ron, I don't make friends easily at all; I can barely hold onto the ones I've got. I can't draw well, and I'm not musical. I can't fly at all, let alone well enough to play Quidditch. I'm not brave like Harry. I'm not like you, with your self-confidence and knowing where you fit in the world."  
  
"Hermione," Draco with a humourless laugh, "I don't think there's anyone at this school with less of a sense of where they fit in the world. I used to live based on what my father expected from me. I would live up to his expectations and be rewarded. That's Father's idea of parenting."  
  
"But you have expectations for yourself, right?"  
  
"Of course I do. I plan on being a very powerful wizard one day. I'm not sure exactly which area I want to go into, but I love Potions and Charms. I also want to train to be an Animagus. When McGonagall taught us about those in third year, I read everything I could about them. It's so fascinating. And if you were able to learn it on your own, and not have to be registered, the stuff you could do."  
  
Draco trailed off, his imagination running wild, until he noticed the look of amusement on Hermione's face.  
  
"What? Don't you think I could become an Animagus? I'll have you know that I'm pretty damn good at Transfiguration," he said heatedly.  
  
"I know that, Draco, it was just something you said reminded me of someone I knew." She stopped suddenly, the smile fading from her face. "Um. but it's getting late, I should probably go."  
  
Draco reached out and grabbed Hermione's arm as she stuffed the funny map into her bag and started struggling with the ties.  
  
"Don't go yet. It's fine. This corridor isn't patrolled much at all, and not until much later. Please," he asked. "Stay and talk. I like talking with you. That's not something I can say about many people."  
  
"I'm really sorry Draco," Hermione said meeting his eyes. "I enjoyed talking with you too, but I really have to go."  
  
"What's the rush? Do you have a date with Potter and Weasley to save the world tonight?" Draco couldn't keep the sarcasm from his voice. His annoyance deepened when Hermione blushed and wouldn't meet his eye. He dropped her arm as if it had just transformed into a Flobberworm  
  
"Oh, well, secret plans must be afoot then. You can't even just say yes," he mocked, anger in his voice. "I thought you trusted me. Or was that all just to make me calm down?"  
  
"No, Draco, it was real. Really it was. I do. But I do have to go. And I'm not going to meet Ron and Harry, I swear. It's just that I'm supposed to be doing something and you made me forget all about it and I really hope that I haven't totally messed it up, so to fix it I have to go. Now."  
  
"Okay, okay, Hermione, fine," Draco said soothingly, amused by Hermione's mad babbling as she fastened her bag and stumbled to her feet. He reached for his books then pushed himself up from the floor. "I guess I'm still a little touchy about, well, you know. You should go. I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
"I'll see you in Potions class. G'night, Draco," she called, already hurrying down the hall.  
  
Draco smiled, watching the small figure's robes and hair stream behind her. He silently wished her luck in sneaking halfway across the castle after curfew. Suddenly the thought of the enchanted map she was carrying in her bag came to him.  
  
"S'pose she doesn't need that luck after all," he muttered to himself as he turned towards the Slytherin dungeons. "There's more layers to that girl than I thought."  
  
Hermione ran towards the Gryffindor tower, cursing herself for her stupidity. Chatting with Malfoy, fighting with him, laughing with him, while she was supposed to be watching the map. She pulled the parchment out of her bag as she ran and glanced at it. It looked like the way to the portrait entrance was clear. Filch was far away, and most of the teachers had gone to their bedchambers for the night. Still, she slowed her pace and moved more quietly as she approached the stairs. Ducking into a darkened corner, she stopped to look at the map more carefully.  
  
"Damn!"  
  
Hermione cursed before she could stop herself. The Collier dot was no longer in the Slytherin common room. She stared at the map, examining each section carefully. Finally, after a few heart stopping moments, she located the student's name. He was in the kitchen area of the castle, not moving. Hermione took a deep breath. At this point she was supposed to call Ron and Harry for reinforcements, so that if the younger boy left the castle they could go together to find Wormtail's hiding place. She fumbled in her pocket for her wand, trying to remember the incantation that would lead Ron and Harry to her location. From her other pocket, she pulled a second map of Hogwarts. Kneeling, she placed the two maps side by side. Locating the exit Collier generally used, she touched her wand to the second map.  
  
"Indicare locum," she whispered.  
  
A small green light glowed at the tip of her wand. Hermione tucked her wand away, hoping that that green light would be matched by a small green dot on the rough maps that Ron and Harry carried with them at all times.  
  
While Hermione hadn't been able to crack the enchantments on the Marauder's Map, much to her frustration, she had managed to find the charms to link three rougher, simpler maps together. With the location-indicating spell she had just cast, Harry and Ron should be able to see where she wanted them to meet her. As Hermione hurried down the hall, she grinned to herself. The boys were probably going to be very surprised by their locator maps tonight. Knowing their tendency to become engrossed in games of Wizard's Chess, or discussions on Quidditch, she had added an extra spell to the two boys' maps. When the indicator spell was cast, the maps were to emit loud squawking sounds until unfolded. If only she could have tested that feature while in the room with them. Ah, well, she'd have to ask Ginny for a detailed description.  
  
Ten minutes later, Hermione stood in the shadows by a small door near the kitchens. She was listing off curse words under her breath, alphabetically. She had reached 'r' by the time Harry and Ron came rushing into the corridor.  
  
"Where is he?" Ron gasped.  
  
"Do we have long before he gets here?" Harry asked, also panting.  
  
Hermione stared at her feet.  
  
"Hermione?" Harry said suspiciously.  
  
"We missed him," she whispered.  
  
"I'm sorry, what?" Ron said.  
  
"We missed him," Hermione said, slightly louder.  
  
"How? What did he do differently tonight? Did he skip the kitchens or something?"  
  
"No," Hermione muttered, feeling her cheeks turn red. "He went to the kitchens."  
  
"Then what?" Harry asked, looking perplexed.  
  
"It's my fault," she said quickly, raising her head but still not looking either boy in the eye. "I didn't notice he'd left Slytherin until he was in the kitchens and then he started leaving the kitchens right after I cast the indicare spell. He was long gone even by the time I got here."  
  
"Damn!" Ron cursed. "Double damn and slimy slugs! We think we've finally got a plan and he still slips away from us. Darn it! Slimy, slippery, sneaky little Slytherin! Damn!"  
  
Hermione leaned back against the wall and dropped her eyes, crossing her arms protectively in front of her.  
  
"Ron!" Harry snapped. "Shut it! And Hermione, don't worry. Both of us have slipped up watching the map. It doesn't matter if you dozed off. We'll get him another night."  
  
Hermione watched as Harry glared at Ron until the redhead blushed.  
  
"Yeah, Mione," Ron muttered. "It's okay. I've closed my eyes a few times while on duty."  
  
If her cheeks became any redder, Hermione was fairly certain that they'd catch fire. The boys were going out of their way to excuse her actions, and they didn't even know what had made her look away from the map. She tightened her hands on her arms and took a deep breath.  
  
"I didn't doze off, Harry, but thanks for the excuse," she said, finally.  
  
"Did you get caught by a teacher?" Ron asked, looking at her anxiously.  
  
"No." she hesitated.  
  
"A Prefect?" Harry offered.  
  
"No." Hermione grimaced and then continued. "Draco found me in the hall by the Slytherin entrances and we got talking and I had to hide the map, so I missed Collier. I'm so sorry guys. So sorry. I'll never mess this up again, I promise."  
  
"Malfoy!" Ron snarled. "Should have known. I bet that Collier sent him ahead to make certain no one would catch him sneaking out. Damn. Of course."  
  
"See, not your fault, Hermione," Harry said reassuringly.  
  
"But that's not it at all!" Hermione protested. "Malfoy wasn't there to help Collier. He was there to get away from Collier. I saw them together in the common room and then he came running out and tripped over me. Draco was trying to get away from Collier and his talk of Death Eaters and You-Know- Who."  
  
"Is that what he told you?" Ron snorted in disbelief. "Hermione, get a grip. This is Malfoy we're talking about. You know what he's like."  
  
"Yeah, I do know what he's like," Hermione shot back angrily. "But you don't. He's different this year. He's been through some really awful things and they made him doubt all of the stuff that he used to say. He doesn't want to be like his father."  
  
"Hermione, what are you talking about?" Harry interrupted. "Are you sure that this isn't just the potion speaking?"  
  
"It's not! I swear it's not!" Hermione turned. "Ron, when you were enchanted, did you trust Crabbe, did you believe his pretending? No! No matter how civil the Amicibilitas makes you act, it doesn't change what you believe. It helps in conflict by letting people talk, and through that they reach agreements. You knew that Crabbe was a creep and he kept acting like a creep, with the exception of not trying to knock your head in whenever he saw you. He might have said 'hi,' but did he ever, in any way, indicate that he might not be a Death Eater in training?"  
  
Ron shook his head, but continued to look wary.  
  
"So you're telling us that Malfoy is actually saying that he doesn't believe all that stuff he used to say? That he's a changed man."  
  
Harry snorted at Ron's mocking tone.  
  
"That's exactly what I'm saying. Why don't you believe me?" Hermione asked. "Do I have to make him tell you himself? Would that make you understand?"  
  
"Maybe if he took a Veritaserum," Harry said, smiling. "C'mon Hermione. Let's head back to the tower. It's late, we're not going to catch Collier now, and I think you could use a little sleep."  
  
Hermione nodded her agreement and let the boys drape the invisibility cloak around the three of them. As they made their cautious way back to the Gryffindor tower, her mind kept running in circles. Draco was more willing to believe her than Harry and Ron were. Maybe they had their reasons: she hadn't been the only victim of Draco's nastiness. But they were her best friends. Why couldn't they trust her judgment? 


	7. Chapter Seven

The end of October was quickly approaching. Halloween preparations had begun in the Great Hall; Hagrid's pumpkin patch was full to bursting with huge orange gourds. The biggest excitement, though, was the Hogsmeade trip planned for the weekend before the great feast. All of the students in third year had been told stories of the wizarding village, and were constantly pestering the upper year students with questions. Harry and Ron were making plans to spend most of their time in Zonko's and Honeydukes and had made great long lists of all the candy and tricks that they would be buying.  
  
Hermione wasn't as interested in the scheduled expedition, though she did enjoy spending time in the village. Her mind was more occupied with the confusing thoughts about her growing friendship with Draco Malfoy. Ever since the night that Draco tripped over her in the Slytherin dungeon and they had sat and talked, she had begun to feel torn between her two best friends and the strange new relationship she had with Draco. Ron and Harry still thought that Draco was as bad as he had been during the first four years they had spent at Hogwarts. Ron had gone so far as to call her 'mental' for believing that Draco could be changing.  
  
It was becoming increasingly difficult to deal with Ron and Harry's attitudes towards the time she spent with Draco during the evenings. Even though she repeatedly explained that they were simply working on homework, the boys had started showing up at the isolated library table where she and Draco studied. They claimed to need help with their own homework, but it was fairly clear to both Hermione and Draco that they were there in an attempt to protect her from the Slytherin boy. She tried over and over again to reassure them that she was perfectly safe in the library, that even if Draco were as bad as they thought that he couldn't really do anything with most of Ravenclaw house sitting on the other side of the shelves.  
  
After one particularly irritating interruption, Hermione had lost her temper and begun shouting at Ron. Her ranting drew the attention of Madame Pince and resulted in all three students being ordered out of the library. This wouldn't have been such a bad thing if it weren't for the fact that Hermione was working on an essay for Professor Binns and she needed books that she could only find in the library. She hadn't even had time to check the books out before Madame Pince told them that they were not allowed in the library until the next day.  
  
Draco had been surprisingly even tempered about the whole situation. It was he who calmed Hermione down after they were kicked out, and he who made light of Harry and Ron's protection attempts. He even insisted on staying to help the Gryffindor boys with their homework when they showed up in the library. This did not endear him to Ron or Harry, though the air of mocking superiority Draco had when explaining solutions to Potions problems that stumped them might have had something to do with it. Or possibly it was his offer of the services of Crabbe and Goyle as assistant bodyguards. The faint sneer that came into the blond student's voice whenever the other boys were around was a large part of the problem. Draco certainly hadn't changed his opinions of her friends, much as his attitudes towards Hermione had altered.  
  
The two students had discovered a mutual love for Arithmancy and Charms, and an equally mutual loathing for Divination and Astronomy. Draco repeatedly congratulated Hermione on the wisdom of dropping what he called 'wool-gathering with the half-wit,' which earned both a glare and a smile. Hermione was shocked that Draco had turned out to be such a good study partner; for his part, he claimed to be driven by a determination to find out her secret and use it to become top of the class. Hermione grinned, but secretly felt that Draco was more interested in his studies than he would even consider letting people know. Whatever the reason, she was enjoying this new and unusual experience: working with someone who took school seriously. It certainly made a pleasant change from Ron and Harry's lack of interest in anything academic.  
  
Hermione was feeling increasingly torn between the three boys. She was also worn down by guilt at lying to Draco about what she did on the evenings when she refused to study with him. In an attempt to make up for the night she lost track of Collier, she had insisted on taking both weekend evenings, as well as her mid-week shift. Harry and Ron had protested, but she ignored them. It was only until she stopped feeling guilty about what she had done, she explained, then they could go back to taking turns on the seventh evening's watch. What this meant, though, was that she was doing her best to keep watch during her hours in the library and then coming up with excuse after excuse for why she couldn't continue working with Draco after the library closed.  
  
She had tried to talk to her friends about letting Draco in on their plans. Ron had barely heard the beginning of her sentence before he told her, emphatically, not a chance. Harry backed him up, repeating his theory that Draco was just playing with Hermione's mind and hadn't changed in the slightest. Neither boy would listen to her arguments or explanations of the changes in the Slytherin boy. Hermione finally snapped and snidely asked what it would take for them to believe in the possibility of a changed Draco. Harry's response, seconded by Ron, had been "a signed and witnessed letter from Dumbledore himself."  
  
That was the most recent discussion they had had about the matter, a few days before the Hogsmeade trip. Hermione had decided that she was done with fighting. If Ron and Harry couldn't accept her friendship with Draco, that was too bad for them.  
  
As for what she was going to tell Draco about her evening activities. that was less simple. She knew she couldn't keep lying to him; it was breaking her in two every time they talked. He repeatedly mentioned how much he enjoyed spending time with someone with whom he didn't have to lie and pretend. Hermione winced every time Draco mentioned the word trust, or expressed his amazement at how they had become so open with each other after four years of bitter hatred.  
  
It was a topic of some importance to him, especially as they watched the friendship potions wearing off on all the students in their Potions class. It seemed that the potions had worn off on all of the people who had not developed true friendships. As for the partners who had become friends, it was impossible to tell, but since all of the changes had happened in the past few weeks, Draco argued that their potions must have faded as well. He was amazed that, instead of disappearing, his and Hermione's friendship was growing stronger. Hermione agreed with him, but silently worried that her deceit might put an end to all that.  
  
It was a quiet Friday evening in the library. Most of the students were in their common rooms, making plans for the next day's trip. Even the Ravenclaws seemed to have abandoned the idea that homework could be worked on the day before a Hogsmeade visit. Draco and Hermione were at their usual table working on a tricky Arithmancy problem that Professor Vector had set for her advanced classes. Though they weren't in the same section, the two students were usually assigned the same homework, and as the coursework became more difficult both were grateful to have a second mind working on the problems.  
  
Unexpectedly, the lanterns hanging above the table all dimmed in unison. Draco looked up in surprise.  
  
"It can't be 8:20 already?" he asked.  
  
Hermione glanced down at her watch. She frowned and shook her head.  
  
"It's not. It's barely eight. Madame Pince must be confused."  
  
They bent their heads over the complex chart on the table. Their concentration was so complete that both students jumped at the sound of a loud handclap.  
  
"I am closing the library. The lights dimmed ten minutes ago and all the other students understood that that was their signal to depart. Have you two decided that this rule doesn't apply to you either?"  
  
Madame Pince was standing over them with a very sour look on her face. Though she had let them return to the library, she still seemed quite angry over Hermione's outburst the previous week. In fact, on their first day back, she had tried to separate Draco and Hermione. It was only Draco using all of his charm that had caused the librarian to agree that the students could continue working together. She had told them, though, that if there were any repeats of the shouting incident that she would turn them over to Filch without regret.  
  
Draco stood and smiled at Madame Pince's glowering face as Hermione began quickly packing their supplies into her satchel.  
  
"We're terribly sorry, Madame," he said, trying his best to look abashed. "When the lights dimmed at an earlier time than usual, we though that perhaps, um, Peeves was playing a trick on you. We hadn't realized that you were closing the library early."  
  
"Well, from now on when those lights dim I want you two to pack up and leave, no matter what the hour. I don't feel like keeping the library open for a small handful of students, none of who are even using my books. This is not a common room, it is a library."  
  
"Of course, Madame," Draco replied. "We know that and are eternally grateful for having such a marvelous library at our disposal. We'll be going now and will finish our work in a common room, as you so kindly suggested."  
  
He grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her across the library. Madame Pince sniffed loudly as they hurried through the door, but her glare had faded somewhat. Draco pulled Hermione through the large doors and down the corridor. The sound of the wooden doors being closed had barely echoed down the corridor when Hermione began snorting with laughter. Draco glared at her.  
  
"What were you thinking?" he asked. "Making those faces at me over her shoulder. I could barely keep a straight face."  
  
"I'm sorry, Draco, but you were so. obsequious. Fawning over her: 'Dearest Madame Pince, may I tell you how fabulous you are?' It was hilarious."  
  
"I didn't see you coming up with a way out of that one. She was probably about to ban us from the library all weekend or something."  
  
"I know. I know why you did it," Hermione said. Her laughter was fading, but she still had a huge grin on her face. "And I will always leave you in charge of finding ways out of tricky situations. I could never be that convincing, or charming, while making everything up on the spot."  
  
"I'll give you lessons someday," Draco offered, smiling down at her. "So, shall we go find an abandoned classroom and keep going? It's not even eight- thirty, right?"  
  
"Actually Draco, I think I might head back to my tower. I have some other work I need to do that I left there. My brain can't take any more Arithmancy tonight, not without bits leaking out of my ears."  
  
Draco looked disgusted.  
  
"That's a horrible image. Please spare me. But are you sure I can't convince you to keep working on something else instead?"  
  
"I'm sorry, no," Hermione replied, pulling his textbook out of her bag and handing it to him. "I really should go do this other work. But tomorrow afternoon, I promise."  
  
"Tomorrow?" Draco shook his head. "Hermione, I'm going to get you a calendar, or maybe a Remembrall. Tomorrow's the Hogsmeade trip. I'm not planning on spending that in the library. But maybe." he trailed off and looked down at his feet.  
  
Hermione looked at him, her face puzzled.  
  
"Well, would you like to meet in town?" Draco asked. "We could have a Butterbeer at the pub, or go to Flourish and Blotts. What do you think?"  
  
Draco held his breath. He wasn't entirely sure why this mattered so much to him, but the thought of spending time with Hermione alone, outside of school, with not a textbook in sight suddenly seemed very important. If she would agree to this, then she really was treating him as a friend. He crossed his fingers inside the sleeve of his robe, internally mocking himself for being so suspicious.  
  
"Sure," Hermione said, after what seemed like hours. "That sounds like a great idea. Shall we meet at the tavern and make plans from there?"  
  
"Great!" Draco let his breath out on the word. "Around two, then?"  
  
"Two-o'clock it is," Hermione agreed. "I'll see you there, Draco."  
  
She turned and started walking towards the Gryffindor part of the castle. Draco smiled at her retreating back. Hermione probably had no idea how good this made him feel, he thought, but he certainly wasn't fighting the warm, happy feeling inside of him. His father would be horrified, but for a change that thought didn't bother Draco in the slightest.  
  
Saturday was unexpectedly warm, the sun shining golden in a cloudless sky. The Hogwarts students took their time wandering from shop to shop, enjoying the weather. As Draco separated himself from a group of Slytherins who were advancing on Honeydukes with a determination that should have terrified the unsuspecting shopkeeper, he couldn't help smiling. It was gorgeous out and he was having a surprisingly good day. While he had no plans of spending his entire moneybag in the candy shop, as his classmates were intending, he had decided to treat himself to a present. There was a book on advanced flying techniques and Quidditch maneuvers that his father had been refusing to buy for years, but Draco had managed to save enough money to get it himself. And he even had a few sickles left over to buy Hermione a Butterbeer.  
  
Draco wandered into The Three Broomsticks, which was crowded as usual, and glanced around quickly. He saw neither a flyaway tangle of brown hair, nor the fiery red or inky black hair of her friends. Slightly disappointed he checked his watch, then moved towards a seat at the bar where he could keep an eye on the door. It was only quarter of two, so he was slightly early. Besides, he told himself, it was a good thing that she was not already here with her friends because then he would have to put up with their not-so- good-natured heckling. Draco had never liked Potter or Weasley, but their attempts to 'protect' Hermione from him were really irritating. He had kept his temper, because he was afraid Hermione would never speak to him again if he hauled off and punched one of the other boys, but he didn't bother to mask his irritation and dislike. Of course, neither did they.  
  
He could see how much it got to Hermione, how she tensed up whenever one of her friends found her with him. It was almost gratifying to see that it was her friends who annoyed her, rather than Draco; that it was their actions that made her irritable, not his. Though he knew Hermione would never admit it, Draco suspected that she preferred his behavior to theirs these days. Perhaps she even preferred spending time with him, rather than them. It was a stretch, but he had his suspicions. To surpass Potter and Weasley in her affections, now that was a goal to strive for. That would be a contest at which he would love to beat those two.  
  
He felt a hand touch his shoulder and turned slowly on his stool.  
  
"Hey Draco," Hermione greeted him. "I hope you haven't been waiting long."  
  
"Not long at all," he replied, smiling at her. He stood and offered her his seat, looking around for another chair to sit in. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be a free seat anywhere.  
  
"Why don't we get out drinks and go for a walk," Hermione said.  
  
Draco grinned and nodded gratefully.  
  
"Sure," he said. "What can I get for you?"  
  
"I wouldn't say no to a warm Butterbeer."  
  
"Just wait here a moment," Draco said. He pushed his way through the crowd to the bar. He placed his order and smiled at Madame Rosmerta as she handed over the drinks. Wrapping the warm bottles in his cloak, he fought his way back to Hermione and gestured to the door. They didn't speak until they had made it through the door.  
  
"Whew! It was really busy in there, wasn't it?" Hermione shook her head in amazement. "The town must love visiting days. Or maybe hate them. I'm not sure."  
  
"Oh, all the businesses make a fortune off of the students," Draco said. "Hundreds of kids with no one to stop them from spending all their pocket money. Shopkeeper's dream."  
  
"Too true," Hermione agreed. "Shall we find somewhere to sit?"  
  
Draco fell in step beside her as they wandered through the town. He pointed out several possible places, but Hermione rejected them all. After a few minutes, they had passed the edges of the shopping district and came to a small park. When Draco pointed out a bench near a small pond, Hermione nodded her agreement.  
  
"Looks lovely. And in the sun, which is perfect."  
  
"Yeah, it's a fair bit colder in the shade," Draco said, sitting and handing Hermione her Butterbeer.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
They sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying the sun and the warm drinks. Eventually, Hermione capped her half finished drink and turned to Draco. There was a serious look on her face, with a hint of nervousness.  
  
"Draco, I want to tell you something," she began. "And I don't want you to interrupt until I'm finished."  
  
Draco looked at her in confusion but nodded and placed his drinks bottle on the ground.  
  
"Alright, now this is a bit of a risk I'm taking here, but I really can't handle this much longer."  
  
Hermione stopped and took a deep breath.  
  
"You know how some nights I won't study with you past library closing time?" she asked. Draco nodded, looking at her expectantly.  
  
"Well, those nights, I'm not going off to do other homework. I know that's what I usually tell you. And I haven't been meeting Ginny, or people from my Ancient Runes class. It's something not related to homework at all." She paused and seemed to be trying to decide what to say next.  
  
Draco sat silently. Hermione had been lying to him, lying to him for almost three weeks now. It surprised and angered him. In fact, he was really quite furious. Had she been meeting someone else, he wondered, perhaps having secret assignations in the Astronomy Tower? That would be too much. Shaking his head to clear it, he realized that Hermione had started speaking again.  
  
". so that night in the halls by the dungeons I was watching for suspicious movement. The student we're keeping an eye on usually stays in the Slytherin dungeons until curfew and then starts his wandering. So that's why I was there. Not studying the map. Well, not in the way I said I was."  
  
"I'm sorry, what?" Draco interrupted. "You're spying on a Slytherin?"  
  
"Yes, that's what I just said. One of the Slytherins has been acting very oddly. We think that he's helping an agent of You Know Who keep an eye on the school. So the nights that I won't stay late with you, those are my nights to keep watch."  
  
"Why are you telling me this, Hermione?" Draco asked.  
  
"Because I can't keep making up excuses to leave when I have to start watching the map constantly. I can't keep lying to you."  
  
"Like you've been lying to me for the past month, or longer?" Draco said angrily.  
  
"Draco, I'm telling you this against the wishes of my best friends. I'm risking a lot to tell you this, because I can't stand not telling you the truth anymore."  
  
Draco glared at her for a moment. Hermione dropped her eyes and reached for her drink. She fiddled with the cap for a few moments and then burst out:  
  
"I thought that I could trust you with this! Isn't this exactly what you want to hear, that I believe you completely and am willing to trust you with something that could really get me in trouble!?  
  
"This means that I don't think that you're pretending to be my friend, or pretending to reconsider your stand on the Death Eaters. It would be deadly to me, to my friends, if You Know Who's people knew this information. But I told you anyway, because I know that you aren't one of them!"  
  
Draco stared at Hermione. Her cheeks were red and her hands were clenched around the Butterbeer bottle so tightly he was afraid it might break. He wasn't sure how to respond to what she had just told him. She had lied; she had admitted that she had lied to him, but now.  
  
"Hermione, I'm really not sure what to tell you," he said finally. "I think that. I don't know. I'm angry that you were lying to me. That you didn't trust me with the truth. I thought I'd proven to you that I wanted nothing to do with those people."  
  
Hermione grimaced and loosened her grip on the bottle.  
  
"I knew what you had said. I heard everything you told me. But I also heard your repeated statements that you wanted to be on the winning side in any battle. And I know - I knew - that you thought that You Know Who's people might be that side. I was afraid that you could still change your mind. It's not as though your past behavior has given me much encouragement."  
  
"But you know what I said."  
  
Hermione cut him off.  
  
"I know what you said. I remember all of our discussions. It was something we talked about the other night, about Dumbledore and the people that he trusts and the people who help him. It was how astounded you were at the idea that people didn't work for Dumbledore, that they work with him. That anyone can be the most important part of something, because everyone is needed.  
  
"It was when you realized that, unlike the Death Eaters, we don't have to bow down and worship someone, that we all just fight for the same side, that was when I thought I saw which side you were more likely to choose."  
  
Hermione smiled at Draco and he found remembering the night she was talking about. That night he had made a decision as he questioned Hermione over and over about the people he had previously doubted. He had begun by expressing his doubts over Dumbledore's powers, his prestige, and Hermione had argued back using examples that he had never heard of. Eventually Draco had discovered himself craving the respect that Hermione gave to people like Dumbledore and various others she mentioned. If people would think about him in that same way. it was a heady thought. To have people welcome his presence, ask his opinions, defer to his judgement, to have all of that without uttering a single threat. To have people smile rather than cringe when he entered a room. Draco had spent six years as his father's shadow, and he was starting to see the less enjoyable side of how people thought of Lucius Malfoy.  
  
He had found the more equal system appealing. The chance for him to be somebody important, for him to have a say in how everything happened, that had suddenly seemed possible. He wouldn't have to grovel on the floor, begging approval, as he had seen his father doing one night when he accidentally looked into Lucius' study. The sight of his father lying on his belly, not even lifting his eyes to the face in the flames, had shocked Draco. He had backed from the doorway quickly before either man noticed his presence. It was something that he had never mentioned to Hermione, but somehow she seemed to know that that was how You Know Who treated his followers and had shared Draco's contempt for people who would act in such a way.  
  
Even if he had to work a little harder, he would probably advance much further. The rewards for being one of the people who were fighting You Know Who could be great. Of course, he could also end up like Weasley's father; but Draco knew that his ambitions and abilities were greater than those of the older man. Besides, Draco had knowledge that would allow him to advance quickly. He could relay everything he heard from his fellow students, from that creepy little Collier kid. What the younger boy talked of would probably surprise Dumbledore, and if it ended up being useful, Draco was sure to be well rewarded. He might even replace Potter as the headmaster's favorite. Potter could only spy on Collier; Draco could actually milk him for information.  
  
He lifted head to see Hermione looking at him expectantly. There was also a fair bit of nervousness in her gaze, Draco noticed. It made him smile to think that she was worried about what he might think of her.  
  
"Well, Hermione," he said, "I'm not going to pretend that I'm not angry about being lied to. But I think I understand why. You had to make sure that I was safe to talk to. Anyone would do the same, I suppose. I know that I don't tell people my secrets easily."  
  
Hermione smiled and relaxed somewhat.  
  
"I know that," she said. "I remember how hard it was for you to tell me about. you know. And that was when I first started to trust you a little bit."  
  
"Well, let me see if I can make you trust me even more," Draco said with a grin. "The student that you are watching, the suspicious one - it wouldn't be Jamie Collier, would it?"  
  
Hermione blinked with surprise. Draco's grin grew wider.  
  
"I thought so!" he crowed. "Now, I loathe that Collier kid. If you want to know anything about him, from his shoe size to his plans for helping his father and You Know Who, I'm your man."  
  
Hermione blinked several more times, and her mouth dropped open.  
  
"You. you want to." Her voice was faint. "You want to tell me about Collier and his plans?"  
  
"Yup." Draco could have laughed at the look on Hermione's face, but he didn't think she would appreciate it. "Just ask."  
  
"Do you know what you're risking?" Hermione asked. "Telling us things like that? If anyone finds out, you could be. killed."  
  
Her voice was very small on that last word. Draco looked at her in amazement. He didn't know which was more surprising, that he hadn't even considered the risks or her horror at the thought of his demise.  
  
"Hermione, I think I'm smart enough to not get caught," he responded, smirking. "It's not as though I plan on dancing around singing 'I'm a spy, I'm a spy.' I'm not stupid."  
  
"But it's really dangerous," Hermione pointed out. "Don't you remember what your father did to that man? Can you imagine what he would do if he found out you were telling tales to his master's enemies?"  
  
Draco's humour drained from him. He really hadn't considered the idea as carefully as he should have. He wouldn't just be killed; Lucius would take everything very, very personally. Draco had seen how Lucius killed people impersonally. He didn't even want to try imagining how his father would deal with a personal affront.  
  
Hermione watched Draco's face change. All his grinning was done. The blond boy was paler than the Hogwarts ghosts, and he was blinking rapidly as if to clear images from his vision.  
  
"Draco, I want you to know that it would be incredible if you would tell us about Collier, if you could help us deal with his plans," she began. "However, I don't want you taking risks you aren't ready for. And what you would be doing is an incredible risk. It's not like with me and Ron and Harry. We have to do this because if we don't we'll probably be first in line to be killed. That's something I've been living with for a while now.  
  
"But it's not something that you have to do. You can just keep doing what you're doing: keeping safe. Someday you'll have to tell them no if you plan on sticking with us, but you don't have to do it right now. You can deal with that when you're ready. And when you do, you'll have the protection of Dumbledore and everyone else."  
  
Draco snorted. "Some protection. How many times have you nearly died? How many times has Potter nearly bit it?"  
  
"We, well, we kinda walked into most of those situations. Or jumped blindly, depending on who tells it," Hermione said wryly, thinking of how often she'd been told off for her adventures. "Dumbledore does try to protect us, we just ignore him sometimes. But you don't have to go looking for trouble, the way we do."  
  
"Oh, I don't know. If I'm going to risk being on my father's bad side, I might as well get something for it. The risks look pretty similar, but the reward for actually doing something is much greater. I'm not just going to sit back and let you and your pals get all the glory."  
  
"Glory!" Hermione snorted. "Broken bones and petrification. There's some glory for you."  
  
"What I mean is, I'd rather."  
  
"I know, I know," Hermione said with a smile. "I'm starting to get used to your Slytherin ambition. You're going after the big prize, the admiration and respect, not to mention power that you can get from being a big hero. And I'm not complaining. We need the information you can give us. As long as you're willing to take the risk."  
  
"I think I am," Draco said slowly. "I mean, I know I am. I'll tell you everything I can. I'll help you."  
  
Hermione grinned.  
  
"Well, let's tell Harry and Ron tonight. We should borrow a Muggle camera to keep the looks on their faces preserved for all time. It will be priceless."  
  
"No doubt. They'll never believe any of this, will they?" Draco asked mockingly.  
  
"I'll make them believe," Hermione stated.  
  
She would. This time they'd have to listen to her.  
  
The noise from the Gryffindor common room was nearly deafening, but it was nothing compared to the shocked silence that fell when Hermione led Draco through the portrait hole.  
  
She and Draco had met in the library after dinner, as planned, and she had worked hard to convince him that this was the best way to have a discussion with Harry and Ron. Hermione wanted Draco to tell the boys everything that he had told her in the park in Hogsmeade. If he were to come forward volunteering the information, she felt that the other boys would have no choice but to believe what he was saying. And having the meeting in the Gryffindor common room would make them more open to Draco, rather than a furtive conference in a deserted classroom. This way Ron and Harry would have to acknowledge that Draco was willing to be part of their world, be on their team. Or that was what Hermione was hoping.  
  
It didn't look as though it was going to be that easy, unfortunately. Most of the students in the common room were staring in shock, mouths agape. But Ron had shot up from his seat, and his fists were clenched. Harry remained on the couch beside Ginny, but his face was a study in dislike and distrust. Hermione looked up at Draco nervously, but saw only determination in his features.  
  
"So this is Gryffindor tower?" he drawled. "Cozy. A bit red for my tastes, but Gryffindors seem to be fond of red."  
  
Ron seemed to take this as a personal insult and moved several steps towards the Slytherin boy before a glare from Hermione stopped him.  
  
"Ron, Harry," she said calmly. "Could we talk with you for a moment?"  
  
Exchanging suspicious looks, the two boys slowly made their way over to Hermione and Draco. She gestured towards an empty corner. They gathered there, the two Gryffindor boys alternately glaring at Draco and looking at Hermione with confusion.  
  
"What's going on, Hermione?" Harry finally asked.  
  
"We wanted to talk with you," she replied. "Draco has something to tell you guys."  
  
"Well Malfoy should know that his kind aren't welcomed here," Ron stated.  
  
"My kind?" Draco drawled. "My kind, Weasley? Would that be the Slytherin kind? Oh, wait no, because I can count half a dozen of us in here. That must mean the Malfoy kind, then. Well, trust me, the Malfoy kind doesn't want to be in here any more than you want me here."  
  
"Then why don't you leave?" Ron offered.  
  
"No."  
  
Draco leaned against the wall, folding his arms across his chest.  
  
"Ron, please stop," Hermione begged. "Draco's here because I asked him to be here. He has something he wants to tell you."  
  
"I don't want to tell them, Hermione, I wanted to tell you. Which I did," Draco pointed out.  
  
"What did you tell her, Malfoy?" Harry asked suddenly. "Some pack of lies about how you're all reformed and now you love Muggles and hate Death Eaters? Or how you've finally seen the error of your ways and want to come fight You Know Who alongside us?"  
  
Draco looked down at Hermione, who was wincing at what Harry had said.  
  
"Didn't I warn you, Hermione?" he asked. "They're never going to believe any of this. I could tell them everything I know about Collier and my father and they'd still think it was a trick. Some people never get over their little preconceptions."  
  
"Like the idea that you're a Muggle-hating jerk?" Ron snarled. "Or the fact that you've rejoiced at the thought of Hermione's death, and mine, and Harry's, more times than I can count?"  
  
"Or what about the part where you've been calling Hermione horrible names for years?" Harry chimed in. "And how you've been after Hagrid since we started school? Or how much you've always made fun of Dumbledore?"  
  
"Guys, please. Please stop." Hermione had heard all these arguments time and time again. "I know what he's done. Draco knows what he's done. And he's here to offer proof that he has changed, that he wants to help us."  
  
"Help us?" Ron laughed. "Trick us, more like."  
  
Draco turned on his heel and started walking away. Hermione rushed after him and grabbed his arm. He stopped and looked down at her. His face was set in what she liked to tease him was his 'high-and-mighty-Malfoy' face. Hermione looked at him pleadingly, but he just shook his head at her, pulled his arm free, and walked right out of the common room.  
  
Hermione watched him go and then turned back to her two friends, who were still standing in the corner. She advanced on them, shaking with anger.  
  
"How could you? How could you both do that to him?"  
  
"Do what to who? Who cares what we do to Malfoy?" Harry said.  
  
"Yeah, Hermione," Ron added, "we've told you all of that before. It's not like you didn't know."  
  
"You didn't even give him a chance," she accused.  
  
"A chance to what? To lie to us, to try and trick us like he's obviously tricked you?"  
  
"He hasn't tricked me, you idiots. He was coming here tonight to explain that he's changing sides. That he's going to help us. He's going to help us get Wormtail. He was telling me all sorts of things about Collier this afternoon. He was going to tell you all of that and now he's never going to want to talk to you again."  
  
"How does he know about Wormtail?" Harry asked, staring at her.  
  
Hermione could feel colour rising in her cheeks. She tried to stop the blush, telling herself she shouldn't be ashamed of what she did, but now Ron was staring at her curiously as well.  
  
"Um, well, he knows, um, because," she stuttered, "I told him.  
  
"WHAT!!"  
  
Harry and Ron's yells attracted the attention of most of the common room.  
  
"I told him, guys. After he told me a whole bunch of stuff about Collier."  
  
"Are you mad, Hermione? Telling Malfoy about what we know. He'll turn about and tell his father."  
  
"Don't you listen to anything Ron?" Hermione could hear her voice rising. She tried to be more quiet. "He won't. He doesn't want anything to do with his father. He's not the Draco you think you know."  
  
"No, Hermione," Harry said, "he's not the Draco you think you know. Your mind's all messed up."  
  
"Harry, don't you trust me? Can't you believe me on this one?" Hermione pleaded with her friends. "Ron, don't you trust my judgement? You're always saying that I'm the level headed, logical one. Can't you two just believe me?"  
  
"No," Ron said flatly.  
  
"I'm sorry Hermione, but I don't think you know what you're talking about," Harry said.  
  
"I don't know what I'm talking about? When have I ever not known what I'm talking about?" Hermione's voice was getting strident. "Where do you two get off telling me what to believe? I'm not stupid. I know what I'm talking about here. You two are just so pig-headed and prejudiced that you won't even consider what I'm saying.  
  
"You want to tell me who I can trust, who I can spend time with, who I can be friends with. Not a chance. At this point I don't think I even want to be friends with you!"  
  
Draco leaned against the wall by the entrance to the Gryffindor tower. A large lady in a dress that reminded him of Pansy's robes for the Yule Ball was eyeing him suspiciously from her picture frame. He stared back at her boldly, trying to dare her into an argument. Of course, picking a fight with the guardian of Gryffindor tower would be a fairly stupid idea, especially since what he really wanted to do was go back into the tower and rescue Hermione from her incredibly dense friends.  
  
Staring grumpily at the tower entrance, he wondered what the passing time could mean. Was Hermione actually managing to convince her thickheaded friends? Or were they fighting? Worse still, could the two numbskulls be poisoning Hermione's mind against him? Draco's hands formed fists at the thought. The lady in pink started to look worried. Just as Draco had resolved that he would try to go back into the tower, having listened carefully as Hermione gave the password, the portrait swung open and Hermione came rushing out.  
  
She was in tears, Draco could see, and definitely didn't notice him lurking in the shadows. As she rushed towards the stairs he followed, calling her name. At the sound of his voice Hermione froze but did not turn. Draco heard a few sniffles and watched her use her sleeves to scrub away tears. Only then did she turn to face him  
  
"What is it Hermione?" he asked gently, taking another step towards her.  
  
"Those. those idiots," she gulped, her face screwing up again.  
  
Draco didn't know what to do, so he took her by the arm and led her down a quiet hallway. Pausing by an un-shuttered window, he turned her to face him again. In the moonlight he could seeHermione's face was again streaked with tears, and Draco felt a twinge in his chest. Tentatively, carefully, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. Hermione shuddered.  
  
"Idiots?" he asked quietly. "Weasley and Potter? Well, I could have told you that."  
  
He tried to keep his voice light, trying to make her smile, hoping he could smooth away her upset the way she did his anger. But Hermione's face just crumpled again and fresh tears tracked their way down her cheeks.  
  
"C'mon Hermione," he pleaded. "We knew that they weren't going to like any of this. You can't be surprised by their reaction really."  
  
"But I thought they would trust me," she wailed. "They're my best friends. They're supposed to believe me. That's what we do."  
  
Draco felt helpless as Hermione sobbed into her sleeves. Acting on impulse, he pulled her into his arms. Her body went rigid for a second but then she relaxed, resting her head on his chest, her hands clutching his robe. Draco held her tightly, his heart tightening as she shook against him. After a few moments, her sobs faded and she simply leaned against him. He let out a long breath and relaxed himself.  
  
"Better?" he asked.  
  
Hermione nodded against his shoulder. Her grip on his robes had relaxed and one of her arms had snuck around his waist. Draco lifted a hand and stroked the messy brown hair that fell over her shoulder.  
  
"Good," he said. "I have a strict limit on how much crying I put up with and you were about to break it."  
  
Hermione's head lifted and he smiled to let her know he was kidding. His hand moved from her shoulder to brush her cheek, smoothing away tears and a stray curl. Hermione's eyes closed. Draco stared down at her blotchy, tear- stained face for a moment then tilted his head down and gently kissed Hermione's forehead.  
  
For a moment, Hermione stood completely still. When she felt the gentle touch of Draco's lips end, she let out the breath she had been holding and slowly opened her eyes. Grey eyes stared down at her, and Draco's face mirrored her confusion. She felt his hand fall away from her cheek, and then the other loosened its grip on her waist. Not knowing what to do, Hermione dropped her arms to her sides and took a small step backwards. She lowered her head and rubbed her hands across her face, trying to wipe away the evidence of her crying fit.  
  
Draco was staring very intently at the floor between them. She didn't know what to say to him, or even if she wanted to call his attention to her. After a few confused moments that felt like eternity, Hermione shook her head and spoke.  
  
"Thank you," she said, and then felt incredibly dumb.  
  
"You're welcome," he responded, automatically it seemed.  
  
"Wait, sorry, for what?" Draco asked, looking up from the floor suddenly.  
  
"For, um, comforting me." she stammered. "You know, for letting me cry on you and stuff.  
  
"Sorry about getting your robe all soggy," she added.  
  
"No bother," Draco said, looking down at the damp patch as if he'd just noticed it.  
  
"Well," Hermione said, trying to sound business-like even though her insides were dancing around like leprechauns. "I think we're going to have to come up with another way to convince Harry and Ron about you."  
  
"Yeah," Draco agreed.  
  
Hearing the distraction in his voice, Hermione looked directly at his face. The blond boy was doing his best to look at everything in the hall except for her. And the look on his face, well, it looked like he'd be hit with a Confundus Charm. Hermione felt comforted by the fact that she wasn't the only one. Draco had kissed her. It was all a little too unreal.  
  
The two students stood in silence for several endless minutes, lost in confusion. Finally, Hermione broke the silence again.  
  
"I know what we should do," she said, her voice firm and determined.  
  
Draco looked up.  
  
"We need to go to Dumbledore. I know he can fix this."  
  
Draco sat staring at the goblet in front of him, his mind still reeling from everything that had happened. He was relieved to know that he was only drinking pumpkin juice, but very little else seemed normal this morning.  
  
Had Hermione seriously suggested last night that he drink Veritaserum to convince Potter and Weasley? Had the Headmaster actually nodded as if to agree? It was only after the terror had subsided that he had realized that Dumbledore was agreeing to Hermione's second suggestion; the one Draco hadn't even registered in his shock.  
  
And that wasn't the first shock of the evening. Or the last. As she had lead him through the corridors, Draco had been in such a state of befuddlement over kissing Hermione that he had barely listened to a word she said. When they had gained access to the Headmaster's office he had stood in silence as Hermione outlined what they had talked about during that afternoon. When Dumbledore had turned to him for confirmation, Draco had been amazed at the understanding in the old man's face. The Headmaster talked with Draco as if with an adult, listening to his reasoning and responding gravely to his offers of information and aid. Though Dumbledore repeatedly mentioned that the risks were very great and that Draco did not have to put himself in such danger, it hadn't felt like doubt, just concern. Concern for him. So bizarre.  
  
After Draco and Dumbledore had talked for a very long time, he had felt even more secure in his decision. The Headmaster had made many good points about how to ensure that Collier - and more importantly Lucius - would not suspect his actions. More astounding were his plans to protect Draco when it no longer became possible to hide that he had changed sides. Dumbledore spoke very seriously about the fact that he was going to have to cut himself off from his family, his friends. At this, Draco had felt Hermione's hand slide around his and squeeze. Tightly gripping her hand, he had been able to talk about a future stripped of everything he had ever known. Dumbledore then offered the safe haven of Hogwarts during the year and a magically disguised hideaway for the summer break, as well as the best protection he could provide. Assuming, he stipulated, that Draco did not imitate his new friend and go searching for danger. This was accompanied by a serious look for Hermione, which caused her to blush faintly.  
  
Once that discussion had finished, Hermione had broken in to explain the problems she was having with Potter and Weasley. Dumbledore had nodded, a faint smile on his face as he asked if she had any notion as to what would make the pair trust Draco. That was when Hermione made her rather startling suggestion about Veritaserum. When it became clear that the Headmaster preferred the idea of a signed letter of support, Draco felt as if he had been rescued from Dementors. The thought of being at Weasley's mercy while under the influence of a truth potion was terrifying. Especially as Weasley would be asking questions about Hermione, and at this point in time Draco wasn't even sure what he would say about his relationship with her.  
  
Weak with relief, Draco had sat to write and sign a brief statement outlining the basic points he had told Dumbledore. The Headmaster then summoned Professor McGonagall to witness him writing a letter indicating his support and trust of Draco. Hermione had stood behind Draco with her hand on his shoulder during this whole ordeal. Her presence had made the suspicion on Professor McGonagall's face easier to bear. Then Dumbledore had sent Hermione and the Professor back to Gryffindor tower with the letters for Potter and Weasley. Draco had felt worried, suddenly left alone with the Headmaster. But all Dumbledore did was offer him a Sherbet Lemon, then they sat discussing Quidditch while waiting for Professor Snape to come to escort Draco back to the Slytherin dungeons.  
  
That night Draco had slept heavily but woke early. He had lain in bed for a while, watching the sunlight creep across the room. Finally, unable to stand being alone with his thoughts any longer, he had showered, dressed, and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast. No one worth talking to was up yet, unfortunately, which was why he was sitting alone, sullenly staring at his pumpkin juice.  
  
"Plotting the downfall of evil pumpkins everywhere?"  
  
Draco jerked his head up as the mocking voice interrupted his worrying. Pansy Parkinson was taking a seat across the table from him. With her were Blaise and Regina, who sat as well, making Draco feel as though he were facing a panel of judges. Pansy must have seen something in his face, because she didn't wait for a response.  
  
"Don't worry Draco, we're not part of the Pumpkin Protection League or anything. Just wanting some breakfast."  
  
"And a chat," put in Regina.  
  
"A few questions, really," was Blaise's contribution.  
  
Draco looked at them suspiciously. To his knowledge, none of these three associated with Collier and that sort. And of course, no one should know anything about what he had discussed with the Headmaster. So what were they on about?  
  
"There's no easy way to ask this, Draco, so I'll just be blunt," Pansy began. "Why were you in the Gryffindor common room last night?"  
  
"Who said I was in Gryffindor last night?" he countered, trying to recall even one of Dumbledore's suggestions on how to deal with this situation.  
  
"We were there," Regina said. "All of us. And we saw you come in with Hermione Granger."  
  
"And we saw you leave pretty soon after than," Blaise added. "So what were you doing there? Checking up on us?"  
  
Draco stared at him, not understanding.  
  
"Yeah, we know that you aren't a supporter of the inter-house friendships, but it's our choice," Pansy said defensively.  
  
"I can't believe you, coming in and picking fights with Ron and his friends," Regina said. "It's not like it's any of your business."  
  
"What's not my business?" Draco asked, even more confused.  
  
"If Ron's friends with a Slytherin," Regina snapped.  
  
"Huh?" It wasn't brilliant but Draco's mind wasn't really working.  
  
"Me, you idiot," Regina clarified. "He and I are none of your business."  
  
"You and Ron?"  
  
"Yeah, and me and Neville," Pansy put in. "I told you about that the other week, so I don't see why you were coming to keep track of us."  
  
"But I wasn't." Draco said faintly.  
  
"Then what were you doing in Gryffindor?" Blaise asked.  
  
There was a silence as Draco desperately tried to figure out what was going on. Finally he decided to go with one of Dumbledore's suggested excuses.  
  
"I wasn't there by choice," he said in what he hoped was a snarky voice. "I was dragged there by Hermione. uh, Granger, because she had to talk to those friends of hers. Nothing to do with any of you."  
  
"Good. Because it's none of your business where we spend our free time," Pansy said.  
  
"Of course not," Draco agreed. "Absolutely none of my business. Hey, I didn't even notice you guys were there."  
  
"Okay, well, we've got that settled," Blaise seemed more calm. "What's on for breakfast?"  
  
As the other three students started to choose their meals, Draco sat in stunned silence. He had had no idea what they had been talking about, but it seemed that he was safe in his deception. If those three were assuming that Draco's intentions in Gryffindor tower were entirely dishonorable, then there was probably nothing to fear from Collier and the idiots who surrounded him. So long as his mind didn't go completely blank the way it had two minutes ago.  
  
Unfortunately, as soon as he had reestablished his composure, Draco happened to look across the hall at the Gryffindor table. Sitting directly in his line of site were three people, two with very angry looks on their faces. The third met his gaze, and he noticed that her face was pale with dark smudges under her eyes. Hermione's worried look sent a jolt through Draco. Before he knew what he was doing, he had stood and was moving towards to Gryffindor table.  
  
"Where are you going, Malfoy?" a voice drawled from behind him. "Off to play with your little mudblood friend?" 


	8. Chapter Eight

"Where are you going, Malfoy?" a voice drawled from behind him. "Off to play with your little mudblood friend?"  
  
Draco stopped in his tracks, and then turned slowly to see Jamie Collier standing in the doorway. Crabbe and Goyle loomed behind the small boy, much as they had once done for Draco. Seeing the smirking but questioning look on the younger boy's face, Draco's mind raced for an answer.  
  
"Well, Collier, I do have to keep her sweet. Otherwise she might start to doubt me. And if I lose her trust," he spoke as if instructing a child, and tried to keep his voice low. "The plan will fail. So perhaps you could let me get on with it? Or would you like to explain to my father how you messed up everything?"  
  
His condescending tone seemed to have the desired effect, but it was sickening to Draco to see how easily the thought of his father brought fear to the younger boy. Collier paled slightly at the mention of Lucius Malfoy and hurried to assure Draco that he had never meant to cause problems.  
  
"I'm sorry," he concluded. "Don't let me interrupt your plans. Go do what you have to do to keep its trust. I look forward to the day when it is destroyed. To see the look on its face."  
  
"That's enough, Collier! You will have to learn to be subtle if you're going to get anywhere. I'd rather you didn't discuss such things so openly," Draco snarled, not having to feign his anger. "It's risky in a place like this."  
  
With a jerk of his shoulder, Draco indicated other students on benches barely fifteen feet away. Collier's eyes flicked to the students and then to the Head Table, where Dumbledore was conversing with Professor Vector. He looked briefly at Draco and nodded.  
  
"Of course. I won't be so foolish again. I'll see you in the common room."  
  
Draco nodded curtly and walked away quickly. He saw that his little encounter had not gone unnoticed by the trio at the Gryffindor table. Potter and Weasley were both talking fiercely to Hermione. Her face was a picture of frustration and unhappiness. Draco wanted nothing more than to pick up the two boys and knock some sense into them. To treat Hermione that way, it was unacceptable.  
  
As he approached, the two boys fell silent. They glared at him angrily as Draco put one foot up on the bench opposite them. He leaned an elbow on his bent knee and looked directly at Hermione.  
  
"You okay there?" he asked.  
  
"Fine," she answered, looking anything but.  
  
"If you say so," he said.  
  
"Well, she does say so, Malfoy," Weasley snapped.  
  
"So unless you have something useful to tell us, why don't you leave her alone?" Potter asked snarkily.  
  
"I just wanted to know if she wanted to study this afternoon," Draco said, glaring at Potter.  
  
"I'm right here guys," Hermione's voice broke their glaring contest. "Don't talk about me like I'm not."  
  
"Sorry," the three muttered.  
  
"And, yes, I'd like to study with you today, Draco," Hermione continued, her voice high. "But I think that we need to meet to discuss certain events. All of us."  
  
Potter and Weasley didn't respond, so Draco spoke.  
  
"I suppose we do," he said. "Name a time and place."  
  
"I think we'll go out on the grounds, where we can't be found," she said. "That clearing. Dress warm, because I think we'll be there a while. We'll meet at three."  
  
"Fine. At three then."  
  
Draco stood up and nodded to her, but Hermione wasn't meeting his eyes anymore. Turning, he tried to shrug off the hurt, but it stuck with him all the way back to the Slytherin table, and all through the morning.  
  
* * *  
  
Angry voices rang through the trees as Draco approached the clearing. If it weren't so important to Hermione, he wouldn't have bothered trying to convince Potter and Weasley of anything. Hearing their voices raised in argument, disturbing the normally peaceful forest, really annoyed him, as did the thought that they were probably upsetting his friend. Suddenly her clear voice cut through the shouting.  
  
"Will you two both shut up! I just got you what you wanted: proof that Malfoy is not duping me - a signed letter from Dumbledore - and our first break in dealing with Collier and Wormtail. Shouldn't you both be thanking me for doing all of this?"  
  
"Look, Hermione," came Potter's voice, full of frustration. "It's not that we don't believe the note from the Headmaster. And it's amazing that you've brought all this information to us. It's the thought of having to work with Malfoy. That's what I'm not ready to accept. Can't he just do what ever it is he plans on doing and we'll do our stuff and not have anything to do with him?"  
  
Draco nodded his agreement irritably. He didn't want to work with Potter any more than Potter seemed to want Draco around. Of course, he did plan on working closely with Hermione. If only to figure out what it was about her that had got under his skin. He shook his head and continued to listen to the argument in the clearing.  
  
"Look Mione." It was Weasley's voice this time, using a truly appalling shortening of Hermione's name. "You've got to understand why we didn't believe you before. All the Slytherins who keep turning up as secret spies. It's a bit unnatural. Especially when they seem to be the people who hate us the most. I mean, Malfoy! Really."  
  
Draco was puzzled by the obnoxious redhead's statement. 'All these Slytherins?' Did that mean that Draco wasn't the first to have decided on a You-Know-Who-free path to glory? It wasn't as if there were many Slytherins involved with He Who Must Not Be Named and few of those knew any useful information, at least as far as Draco knew. That was an unexpected bit of information that he would have to ask Hermione about later, when they were alone.  
  
"Okay guys, I understand your points. I've been dealing with the 'New Malfoy,' as you call him, for a while now. I know many of the reasons why he's changed his mind, and no, I'm not going to tell you them. Draco can tell you if he likes, but it's his choice. And considering how you've acted to him this fall, I'd be surprised if he does tell you."  
  
"What?" This time Weasley sounded surprised. "Now you think we've been out of line. Good grief, Hermione, I swear your brains gone all mushy about this guy. It's just bizarre."  
  
Draco decided that he'd heard enough. He ran his hands through his hair, making sure it was sleek and perfect, then struck out towards the clearing. As he came to the edge he saw the trio standing near the stream. The temptation to sneak up and push Potter or - no, and - Weasley into the water was hard to suppress, but he plastered a pleasant expression on his face as he approached the group.  
  
"Good afternoon everyone," he called out. "And welcome to my humble hide- away."  
  
Potter and Weasley swung around to face him. Draco only had eyes for Hermione, though, as she came towards him with a broad smile on her face.  
  
"Draco, I'm so glad you're here," she said as she drew near. "Perhaps now we can get down to a real discussion, rather than pointless arguing."  
  
Draco could have laughed at the disgruntled looks on the other boys' faces. Instead he looked down at Hermione and returned her smile.  
  
"Right then," he said, matching her business-like tone. "Why don't we all sit down?"  
  
As he lead the way to a cluster of tree stumps and rocks, he couldn't help but wonder if there was any point in having this meeting. It wasn't as if he wanted to spend time with the Wonder Boys and the feeling was clearly mutual. He assumed that Hermione was smart enough to know she would never be able to force reconciliation.  
  
"What I want today is for you three to declare a truce."  
  
Or maybe she wasn't.  
  
"I don't expect you to be best buddies," she continued. "I just want to know that we can all work together on the same project without my always have to break up fights. I'm not saying that you have to even work together. Just that I can work with each of you in turn without constant sniping. I'm sick of being caught in the middle of this and I want it to stop. Otherwise I don't think any of our plans with be very effective."  
  
"Well, I have no problems with those two, as long as they don't come near me," Draco drawled.  
  
"That's exactly what I'm talking about Draco," Hermione snapped, surprising him. "It's the snarky little remarks that have to stop. And the overt hostility, obviously, but the other stuff bothers me more."  
  
"So what you're saying is that we don't have to work with Malfoy," Weasley began. "Which is great. But we have to talk nice about him?"  
  
"No, Ron, you don't have to talk nice. You just have to stop making rude remarks. It's time that you trusted me, and now Dumbledore, and stopped bothering me about working with Draco."  
  
"Fine, I'll do it." Potter spoke for the first time. "No more digs about Malfoy, as long as we don't have to keep having this damn discussion over and over again. Is that enough for you, Hermione?"  
  
Draco looked at him in surprise. He'd never thought that Perfect Potter could be so snippy. It didn't go with his reputation.  
  
"Like you said," the black haired boy continued, "we have much more important things to be dealing with. Does anyone remember Wormtail and Collier? So I agree to your terms, and Ron does to. Don't you Ron?"  
  
Weasley nodded and muttered inaudibly. Potter then glared at Draco.  
  
"And you?"  
  
"Of course, Potter, never said I didn't."  
  
"Then that's settled. Now can we get on with it?"  
  
Hermione nodded, though she looked at each of them suspiciously. Draco dropped the sneering look he'd given Potter and sent her a small smile. She smiled back tentatively, and then pulled a pile of papers from the pocket of her robe.  
  
"So what do we know?" she began. "We know about Collier trying to break into teachers' offices, and we know that he's taking food out to Wormtail. We think that Wormtail's trying to get into the castle. So what are they after?"  
  
"And more importantly," Potter interrupted, "how do we stop them?"  
  
"Sorry to stop everything so soon," said Draco. "But who exactly is Wormtail? You never told me much. He's a Death Eater, right? But he hides in the Dark Forest and, well, what's with his name? Isn't it from that Map you showed me?"  
  
Hermione glanced at her friends, seeming to seek approval. After a moment she began to explain.  
  
"Wormtail was a Death Eater in the first uprising. He was at school with Harry's dad and Snape and. people. His name was Peter Pettigrew, but we call him Wormtail because he's an Animagus who turns into a rat. His name is on the map because he was a friend of the people who made the map. But he betrayed them to his master and."  
  
Hermione's voice faltered and she reached out to take Potter's hand. Draco didn't know what was happening, but from the concerned look on Hermione's face, it wasn't good. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but Weasley spoke first.  
  
"When You Know Who was defeated, Wormtail turned into a rat and hid. He pretended to be a rat for years, until Si... some of the people he betrayed came back and found him. Then he ran away and found You Know Who. And now he's back outside of Hogwarts, trying to get in. I think he's come to kill Dumbledore."  
  
Draco sat silent. It was a bizarre story, but the matter of fact tones Weasley and Hermione had used - it didn't sound as if they'd just made it all up. Besides, Hermione wouldn't lie to him. She'd said so just the day before. He had to believe her, no matter how unreal her explanations were. But one thing really stuck out.  
  
"So this guy is a rat?"  
  
"Yes," Weasley said, sounding bitter. "And he knows Hogwarts really well, so if he ever gets in he can just sneak around until he gets exactly where he wants to be."  
  
"But I don't remember seeing any rats on the list of registered Animagus.es. Or is it Animagi? Anyway, there weren't any rats."  
  
"He was unregistered, Draco," Hermione said. "There were three students who became Animagi without ever telling anyone, back twenty odd years ago."  
  
"Unregistered. That's cool. I told you about how I." Draco trailed off realizing that Hermione didn't really think the unregistered Animagus was cool at all.  
  
"Yeah, Draco, I remember talking about Animagi with you. Which is why I thought that you could help me with the next part of our plan."  
  
From the looks on Weasley and Potter's faces, this was news to them as well.  
  
"I want to find a potion, or a charm, or something to stop Wormtail from transforming. I haven't been able to find on yet, but I know that we can come up with something. If Harry and Ron work on keeping him out of the castle until we can come up with it, when we do confront him we'll actually be able to take him to Dumbledore and Minister Fudge and they can do something."  
  
Draco nodded as she outlined her plan. It made sense in an abstract way, but rushing out to confront a Death Eater Animagus seemed a bit, well, insane. He wasn't sure whether to respect Hermione's courage or shake her for even thinking of putting herself in such a dangerous situation.  
  
Potter and Weasley had no such doubts, it seemed. They were congratulating Hermione on her ideas and had begun to discuss plans for keeping watch on Wormtail. Potter even started to speculate on how the final confrontation with the Animagus should take place. Planning an encounter that could probably get them all killed, Draco thought with a snort. Boy Wonder was a madman.  
  
After listening to the three prattle on for a while, he decided to interrupt.  
  
"If you don't mind, would someone explain where I fit into this little death wish of yours?"  
  
Hermione looked up from the calendar she was scribbling on.  
  
"Well, I need help with the research, obviously. It's all stuff you said you were interested in, so I thought we'd just work on it after we do our homework. And we were also hoping you could keep an eye on Collier for every now and then. The late nights are driving us all mental."  
  
"Sure I'll help with the research," he agreed. "But I don't know how much I can get from Collier. He hasn't mentioned this to me, which means he probably never will."  
  
"Secretive bunch, aren't you? Don't even trust each other," Weasley sneered.  
  
"Ron!" Hermione snapped, cutting of Draco's response. "That's exactly what I was talking about earlier. Draco is not one of them, and he doesn't deserve to be talked to like that."  
  
"Sorry," he muttered.  
  
Draco flashed a condescending smile at the other boy. It was fun watching the redhead blush hideously; even more enjoyable was having Hermione defend him.  
  
"Anyway, Draco," Hermione continued, "I don't think we need you get information from Collier, since we'll find everything out when we catch Wormtail. What we need is someone in the Slytherin dungeons who can keep an eye on him."  
  
"What would be even better would be if you could prevent him from getting to Wormtail," Potter broke in. "But not right away. We don't want the little rat getting desperate before we're ready to fight him."  
  
"I'll do what I can," Draco agreed.  
  
The four talked through their plans for a little while longer, but soon the sun fell behind the trees. Shivering with cold, they abandoned the clearing and made their separate ways to the castle. Draco watched as Hermione hurried ahead with her friends, smiling as she tried to keep up with their longer strides. Though he doubted Weasley or Potter could stand him any more than he could them, he was glad to have reached some sort of agreement with them. He had been granted uninterrupted time with Hermione. And he intended to enjoy it as much as possible.  
  
* * *  
  
Three weeks after the strategy meeting in the woods Hermione was starting to wonder if she might have made a terrible mistake. She and Draco had been working together nearly every evening since that day, but had come no closer to solving the problem of stopping Animagus transformation. Collier hadn't sneaked out his dormitory for over a week; and her friendships with Harry, Ron, and Draco had become so confused that she had to suppress the urge to hit all of them. Hard.  
  
It was the third Sunday in November, and snow had begun to fall lightly. Hermione was curled up in a windowsill in the Gryffindor common room, staring blindly at a book as she tried to make sense of her irritation with her three friends. Harry and Ron had been trying very hard to live up to their promises and rarely made rude remarks about Draco. Draco was unfailing polite about the other boys. It should have been working out well. But somehow, Hermione still felt awkward when she talked about her work with Draco, feeling that Ron and Harry were still doubting him, or possibly her, in some way. As for Draco.  
  
Hermione groaned. She turned the page in her book, hoping that people wouldn't interrupt her if they thought she was reading. Draco. Ever since the night that he had comforted her he had been very kind and considerate. He always asked her about her day and told her funny stories about stupid things that Goyle and Crabbe had said or done. But he never came within a few feet of her, avoiding close contact by sitting across the table, or putting their books between them when they sat on the floor. For reasons Hermione couldn't understand, this bothered her to no end. Also, it made her feel incredibly awkward around him, never knowing if he were going to pull away in disgust if she so much as leaned to read over his shoulder.  
  
The worst part, though, was how memories of that night he had held her kept coming to her at the most bizarre times. She could be mindlessly brushing her hair and suddenly her brain would flash to the feeling of Draco brushing curls from her face. Sitting in class, she would suddenly lose track of the lesson because she would start wondering what it would have been like if Draco had kissed her somewhere other than her forehead. On the temple. On the cheek. If he had put his lips on hers.  
  
It was beyond frustrating, this tendency towards irrational thoughts. Hermione knew that she was more mature than the other girls in her year. Having had her birthday in September, she had turned sixteen already and prided herself on having never bought into the teenage ditziness that seemed to afflict most of the girls around her. Or at least, she had avoided it until this probably insignificant incident had turned her into a character from one of her mother's romance novels.  
  
"You're going to burn a hole through that book if you don't turn the page."  
  
Hermione looked up into the amused eyes of her friend Ginny.  
  
"You've been on that page for five minutes and forty seconds. I've been timing you."  
  
The redhead held up a watch in demonstration.  
  
"Just thinking," Hermione said.  
  
"Thinking pretty hard from the looks of it," Ginny said, leaning on the wall. "And not the happiest of thoughts, either. Anything you want to talk about?"  
  
"Not really," Hermione replied. "Just some stuff I have to sort out."  
  
"And that stuff wouldn't be blond and tall and Slytherin, would it?" Ginny asked innocently.  
  
Hermione stared blankly at the younger girl for a moment. Apparently that gave her away, because Ginny began to grin.  
  
"I knew it!" she crowed.  
  
"Knew what?" Hermione asked.  
  
"You have a thing for Draco! This is great!"  
  
"I do not have 'a thing' for Draco, Ginny, don't be silly."  
  
"Oh, really. But he is why you've spent the last twenty minutes on the same three pages of that book, right?"  
  
"Well, yes," Hermione admitted. "But only in that being friends with him involves changing all sorts of things I've always assumed."  
  
"Like that you'd never touch him without a twenty foot pole?"  
  
"Yeah, that," Hermione grinned to herself, "and the fact that, while he can be annoying and superior, he's got a wicked, dark sense of humour and can be kind of nice sometimes."  
  
"And can he kiss?"  
  
Hermione gaped at her friend. Ginny opened her eyes wide, trying to look innocent.  
  
"Just asking. Because, y'know, that's a very important thing to find out."  
  
"Ginny! Don't be ridiculous. And I don't know."  
  
"Yet."  
  
"You're being really annoying," Hermione snapped, lifting her book.  
  
"Yeah, you pretend to read. I can tell you find this subject so boring. Or rather, I'd believe that if you weren't blushing bright red."  
  
There was no way to respond to that. Hermione closed her book with a snap and swung her legs down from the window ledge.  
  
"I'm not going to talk about this with you. You're worse than Lavender and Parvati these days."  
  
"Just inspired by all the lovely inter-house romance going on. Can I help it if I want all my friends to have what Harry and I have?"  
  
"Oh, no. Please don't be one of those people who has to pair off everyone just because they're part of a couple."  
  
"Hey, it's not like I have to do anything," Ginny said defensively. "There are couples springing up everywhere. And if all of my idiot brothers can manage to get girls, I don't see why you're still single."  
  
"I think that was supposed to be a compliment," Hermione said, amused in spite of her irritation, "so I'll take it as such. But let's drop the subject, all right? I'm not interested in becoming anyone's girlfriend right now. There are more important matters to be dealt with."  
  
She slid down from the window seat and stuffed her book in her bag. Pulling straps over her shoulders, she turned towards the common room door.  
  
"And right now I have to go finish a Charms essay and my Arithmancy. I'll see you later, Ginny."  
  
* * *  
  
The library was quiet and musty, and the corner where Hermione and Draco had spread out their work was only faintly lit by the late afternoon sunlight that had struggled its way through the small window above their table. Despite being dim, though, the area was cozy and perfect for their needs. The pair had spent nearly every evening of the four weeks since Hallowe'en studying and researching in this hidden corner.  
  
Draco had a towering stack of advanced Potions books in front of him, and he was leafing through them slowly, hoping something might catch his eye. Hermione was equally occupied with the complex Charms texts she had chosen though look through. Every now and then, one of them would jot down a quick note, or place a page marker in a book. A companionable silence lay between them.  
  
Biting back a groan, Draco closed the book he had been working with and stretched his neck and shoulders. He had been looking at recipes for hours, every possible spell-stopping, paralyzing, and charm-reversing potion he could find. There were more brews that he had ever imagined, and some of them were quite revolting. Worse lay ahead, though, he thought, eying the stack of books he had borrowed from the restricted section. Looking at the pile of stained, battered, and in several cases locked or buckled shut volumes, Draco couldn't help but smile in remembrance at his encounter with Snape when he had asked for access to these books.  
  
Using their most recent Potions assignment as an excuse, Draco had presented a list of books that had caused the Professor to choke on his tea. When Snape had questioned him on his need for the books, Draco had had excuses for each in turn. The utter frustration of the Potions Master was one of the few high points of the past month. Draco had to wonder how Hermione had managed to convince Professor Flitwick to let her use the rather frightening set of texts she was currently flipping through. Many of the books they were using involved advanced Dark Arts, spells that were too nasty to read about in depth. It was probably a topic of some discussion in the staff room, what he and Hermione were doing.  
  
"Oh!" Hermione's voice broke into Draco's thoughts. "Oh wow, come look at this."  
  
Draco looked across the table at Hermione. She had a volume of Charms for Overly Controlling Perfectionists open in front of her and was flipping through another book in the series, looking for something.  
  
"Really, come see this." She looked up at Draco. "I think I might be onto something."  
  
Draco reluctantly got up and walked around the table. He stopped beside her chair and leaned down to see what she was pointing at. The fresh, clean smell of her hair wafted up to her. All of the awkward feelings he had whenever he was too close to Hermione came flooding through him. He was about to pull away, but then the spell she was pointing at caught his attention.  
  
"See," her voice came softly in his ear. "And what if we could combine it with this reversal charm here? I think that it would be exactly what we need to keep the horrid little rat from transforming."  
  
Draco stared blankly at the books for a few moments. He was caught up in the sensation of being so near to Hermione. All it would take would be for him to turn his head a little to the right. Her warm cheek would be there to kiss. And if she turned her head at the same time. Draco blinked to clear his mind of the visions he had be conjuring, the thoughts of kissing Hermione that had been in his head for four incredibly long weeks. He turned his attention to the charm that she was pointing at and read.  
  
"That's brilliant, Hermione!" he said, once he had read the passage twice. "Perhaps if two of us cast from either side of him, one right after the other. Then all we'd need is something to hold him immobilized, and we'd be set."  
  
"Exactly. Oh, this is great. Finally a breakthrough."  
  
Hermione turned her head to look up at Draco, a huge smile on her face. He looked down into her eyes and felt his breath catch.  
  
The warmth and happiness in her face reached deep inside him and he was helpless to do anything but smile back. He felt disconnected, lost, as strange feelings spread through his chest, sending warm tingles down through his body. Slowly he leaned closer to Hermione. Her eyes widened and her lips parted. Draco's gaze dropped to those rosy lips and he leaned closer still.  
  
"Hey Hermione? Malfoy? You two back there?"  
  
Ron's voice cut through Hermione's dreamy thoughts. She jumped in surprise; at the same time, Draco took a sudden step backwards and nearly went tumbling over a chair. Ron's face came into view from around a bookshelf. He was grinning, but his expression changed to confusion as he looked from Hermione's flushed face to Draco's irritable one.  
  
"What's going on?" he asked suspiciously.  
  
"Nothing. Well, not really nothing," Draco admitted. Hermione's heart nearly skipped a beat. "Hermione had just made an amazing discovery when you surprised us. That's all."  
  
"Oh. All right." Ron kept staring at Hermione, so she nodded in agreement. "Well, I brought the map. It's your night on Collier Watch, Malfoy. He's with Filch right now - probably getting detention. Wouldn't it be great if he were expelled?"  
  
"The school would be better off without him," Draco agreed. "I'll head towards Filch's office and keep an eye on the little snot from there. I'll see you tomorrow Hermione?"  
  
Hermione nodded, not meeting his eyes. She watched as Draco stacked his books and took them to be returned to Madame Pince. Sorting through her own stack of volumes, she prepared to stop work for the evening.  
  
"What was going on with you and Malfoy, Hermione?" Ron asked as he helped her carry her books to the librarian's counter.  
  
"Can't you guys try calling him by his name?" Hermione snapped. "He's working with us now, you could at least try using his name."  
  
"What? C'mon Hermione, it's Malfoy. It'd be too weird to use his first name. His incredibly weird first name," Ron said. "Anyway, I've called him Malfoy for the last four years. I don't think I can change habits that quickly."  
  
"Oh really," Hermione said. "I'd have to disagree, what with you managing to go from hating Slytherins to dating Slytherins in under three months."  
  
"Regina's different. She's special. And nothing like Malfoy. Besides, I'm not dating Malfoy. And neither are you, right?" Ron stared at her intently. "Right?"  
  
"Right, Ron," Hermione sighed. "There's nothing going on between Draco and I. Don't you worry. Draco and I are nothing more than friends."  
  
Ron's worried expression cleared and he beamed down at Hermione. Taking her satchel from her, he led her out of the library.  
  
"Well, that's good to hear. You had me a little worried back there at your study table. If it had been anyone else, I would have figured I'd walked in at a really bad time. But you and Malfoy? That would be ridiculous."  
  
Hermione grinned weakly at her friend and let him chatter at her all the way back to the common room. Ridiculous indeed, to have hoped for even a moment that Draco might have been about to kiss her.  
  
* * *  
  
"I never thought I'd say this, but I wish Collier would do something. Sneak into the kitchens, raid Snape's office, anything," Draco complained. "Otherwise I'm afraid I might turn into an icicle."  
  
Stamping his feet and blowing warm breath on his hands, the blond boy miserably stared at the Marauder's Map. Hermione would have been amused by his statement, and the fact that the tip of his nose had turned a rosy pink, if she hadn't been just as cold as he was.  
  
"I wish we had some Butterbeer. Or hot mulled cider. Mmm. How about some toasted pumpkin muffins with warm honey?"  
  
"All right Draco, stop that," Hermione ordered. "That's cruel and unusual and you know it. Don't do it, or if you are going to talk about things like that, let's see some follow through. We don't both need to watch the map. One of us could go raid the kitchens."  
  
Draco looked down at her ruefully.  
  
"I suppose that by one of us you mean me." It wasn't really a question.  
  
"Well, since you brought it up." Hermione smiled at him. "Just think of the warm fires in the kitchen. And hot cider."  
  
"Fine," he huffed. "I'll be quick. If that little prat tries anything, let me know immediately. I don't want you rushing into any situation alone."  
  
"I think I can take care of myself, Draco," Hermione pointed out.  
  
"But you don't have to," he said. "And I don't want to see you putting yourself in danger. I worry."  
  
Hermione felt her insides melt as Draco flashed her a quick smile and turned to leave. He worried. About her being safe. It was the most personal thing he had said to her in weeks, and the sweetest. She unfolded the map that he had handed her and quickly located the dot labeled Draco Malfoy. He had made it into the kitchens and was probably charming a lucky house elf into packing him a feast. It was bizarre, but somehow his conviction that he deserved the best tended to result in the best being given to him. Hermione couldn't quite understand it but it was true that when Draco pursued something with his single-minded determination, he almost always got what he wanted.  
  
She turned her attention to a different part of the map and found the Collier dot. It was in the same place it had been for over an hour, the Slytherin boys' dormitory. From what Draco had overheard the previous week, they had sorted out that Filch had caught the second year trying to open one of the secret tunnels that the caretaker had sealed off. While he hadn't been expelled, Collier was in a severe form of detention, only allowed out the Slytherin dungeons for classes and meals. Of course, if the assumption that he had an invisibility cloak was true, then it didn't matter that the prefects weren't supposed to let him leave the dungeons; he could sneak in and out easily.  
  
"Here we go!" Draco's voice was triumphant. "Not only do I have warm cider and toasted muffins, I also managed to snag us some blankets to keep the chill of the floor away."  
  
Putting the picnic basket he was carrying down, Draco spread a thick wool blanket on the floor by Hermione's feet. He then arranged another blanket against the wall and knelt to unpack the basket. Looking up at Hermione, he grinned.  
  
"Care to join me?" he asked. "It's more comfortable that standing up."  
  
Hermione pushed her school bag close to the blankets and sat down gingerly. The wool was warm and surprisingly soft, considering it was spread over cold stone. Tucking her legs under her, Hermione turned to face Draco.  
  
"Thanks, this is great."  
  
"Least I could do, right? Now we can sit in comfort." Draco settled himself on the floor and reached for the second blanket. "Here, we'll wrap this around out shoulders. A little extra warmth."  
  
Hermione snuggled into the blanket, and then took the mug of cider that Draco had offered. She leaned back against the wall and sipped at the warm drink. Draco's shoulder touched hers as he too leaned back. They sat in silence for a few minutes as the heat of the drink warmed them.  
  
"Well, I suppose that I should get out some books. If we're going to use studying as an excuse, we really should have something to study."  
  
"Oh I suppose," Draco grumbled, but he put down his goblet. "It's not like anyone could believe that we were have a picnic and a cuddle."  
  
Hermione's hand froze, a sliver of hurt cutting through her. Even Draco thought the idea of them as a couple was ridiculous. She really was going to have to get over this silly crush. Shaking her head to clear it, she pulled out her Arithmancy book and opened it to where she had finished reading the night before.  
  
For a while, the pair studied in silence. Hermione nibbled on a muffin briefly, but discovered she wasn't hungry after all. Draco refilled their goblets with cider at one point and she thanked him, but he returned to his studying and map watching without further conversation. Hermione had to wonder if she was the only one feeling the awkwardness between them, the strange pull.  
  
A cold breeze swept down the corridor. Hermione shivered and tugged the blanket tighter around her shoulders. The action pulled her closer to Draco. She felt his body freeze, and looked up at him questioningly. He was staring down at her intently. Silvery-gray eyes caught and held her gaze, and she felt herself leaning closer.  
  
Draco blinked slowly, once, twice; then his gaze dropped to her lips. Hermione watched as his eyes drifted closed and he lowered his head to hers. As his lips gently touched hers, she closed her eyes and felt herself melt into his caress.  
  
Tentatively, his lips moved against hers. One of Draco's hands came up to caress her cheek, cradling her face in his palm. Hermione slid her free hand along his arm until she could tangle her fingers in the hair lying against his neck. With a soft moan, Draco pulled away from her. Hermione dropped her hand as though burned and stared at her lap.  
  
"I'm sorry Hermione," he muttered eventually. "I shouldn't have done that."  
  
"S'all right," she said softly. "No big deal."  
  
Draco snorted then, causing her to look up.  
  
"No big deal?" he said irritably. "No big deal? It's all I'm able to think of when I'm around you. It's the only thing I've been thinking about for the last five weeks, and it's no big deal?  
  
"D'you know how hard it's been for me to sit and chat with you, to work beside you day after day, to smell how good you smell, to see you all the time. to do all that and not kiss you? I've been going mad."  
  
Hermione stared up at him. It was unreal, to think that he felt that way.  
  
"I don't know what I should say."  
  
"I don't either," he said with a small laugh. "I just. I mean, you don't mind?."  
  
"Don't mind? I've been hoping you would do that for weeks."  
  
It was Draco's turn to look amazed.  
  
"You have?" he asked. "Really?"  
  
"I have, really." Hermione smiled at him.  
  
"Oh good."  
  
Draco pushed the books from their laps and wrapped both arms around Hermione's shoulders. Burying his face in her hair, he spoke.  
  
"I'm so glad you said that. I don't know what I would have done if you'd turned me down. That's why I've waited so long. But tonight I just had to get it over with."  
  
"Get it over.?" Hermione pulled back against his arms, glaring up at Draco.  
  
"Not in a bad way," he soothed. "I mean I just had to do something and take the risk and see what would happen."  
  
"All right," she said, snuggling back into his chest. "For a moment there you made it sound like taking horrible medicine or pulling off a bandage. Not exactly romantic."  
  
"I'm sorry for that. But when you have to spend five weeks trying to build up courage, it does feel a bit like leaping of a bridge with a broom you aren't sure can fly. But now I'm safe."  
  
He smiled down at her and lifted a hand to brush her hair away from her face. Leaning down, he kissed her again. This time, Hermione's arms slid around Draco's back almost immediately. As he cradled her head in his hands, she caressed his back and slid a hand into his silky hair.  
  
Draco sighed against her lips and kissed her more deeply, his lips nipping and sucking at hers. Hermione returned the kiss with all the passion she had. His hand slid down from her hair and pulled her more tightly to him. Hermione gasped at how good he felt, and Draco took that moment to lick his tongue gently over her bottom lip. The kiss continued, as each tasted the other more and more deeply.  
  
After endless minutes, Hermione pulled slightly against Draco's arms. He resisted for a moment, but then let her move away and settle herself so that her head was lying on his shoulder. One of his arms was wrapped around her shoulders, while the other tangled with her arm, their hands entwined over Draco's heart. Hermione sighed and snuggled tightly against him.  
  
Draco leaned contentedly against the dungeon wall. He had finally come up with the courage to kiss Hermione, and it had been even more amazing than he could have dreamed. This moment, with her in his arms, her breath warm against his neck, was as close to happiness as he had felt for many months. The rest of the world could disappear and he wouldn't care.  
  
Draco stiffened. Hermione's head lifted from his shoulder as she looked at him with concern. Carefully, he leaned forward, trying not to let go of the girl in his arms. When he let go of her hand to reach for the Marauder's Map, though, she shifted against him, pulling her arm from behind his back.  
  
"Is everything okay?" she asked nervously, trying to read the map.  
  
"I hope so," he answered. "Just a moment."  
  
"He's not in his bedroom!"  
  
"No, I know. where does he usually go?" Draco scanned the map frantically.  
  
"Kitchens? Nope," Hermione answered her own question. "How about Snape's?"  
  
"No, he's nowhere near the main classrooms. Where could he have gone?"  
  
They stared intently at the map. All of the sudden, Draco spotted the Collier dot. He looked closely at the area where it was sitting, and then laughed.  
  
"Little twerp! There he is," he snorted, pointed to the map. "He's snuck into the Prefect's bathroom."  
  
"Urg!" Hermione groaned. "I'm never using that tub again. Well, actually, I rarely use that bathroom anyway. Ever since I heard that Moaning Myrtle goes in there sometimes. I prefer the one on the fourth floor."  
  
"Really?" Draco leered at her teasingly. "I'll keep that in mind."  
  
Hermione shoved him gently. "Rude. Well, at least we've found him. Shall I return these things to the kitchen? You can go keep an eye on Collier while I do that."  
  
"If I do, will I get a kiss?"  
  
"I suppose I could be persuaded."  
  
Hermione's sly smile set off fireworks in Draco's chest. He collected his books and stood up. Hermione stood also and handed him the map and the flask of cider.  
  
"Here. Keep warm until I get there. I'll see you in a few minutes."  
  
She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him quickly on the cheek. Before he could give in to the desire to drop everything and pull her into his arms, Draco turned and headed for the stairs. 


	9. Chapter Nine

The weeks following the incident in the dungeon corridor were a hectic blur to Hermione. Between classes, homework and meals, she and Draco snatched every opportunity possible to meet. Hermione had originally been very firm about how much time was to be spent working on their research and how much time could be set aside for more personal pursuits. Unfortunately, all her plans were usually thrown in the dustbin as soon as Draco's arms went around her.  
  
Draco had switched from one extreme to the other. Instead of avoiding her personal space, he now seemed unable to not touch her. If they weren't cuddled up together, he could still have his hand on her arm, her hair, her leg. One day, when she sat across from him in the hopes that the table would give her the distance necessary to focus on research, Draco tangled his feet with hers and then lifted one of her legs to his lap. The sensation of his hand gently stroking her stockinged ankle had banished all of Hermione's ability to concentrate. Their study session was quickly adjourned to a nearby classroom where they could cuddle uninterrupted.  
  
As much as she was enjoying these new feelings – being cared for and treated as special, attractive, and feminine – Hermione did force herself to at least try to be rational about the situation. When she did, all sorts of thoughts came rushing in, not the least of which was fear that perhaps the whole relationship was simply based on that strange brew that she and Draco had drunk at the start of term. Had they accidentally produced a love potion? Hermione was fairly sure that Snape would have stopped them, as love potions were banned at Hogwarts, but what if the professor hadn't known?  
  
And even when she dismissed that thought, there was another worry: what her friends would say if they knew. If they had problems with Draco now – well, she didn't want to think about it. It felt like she had been at odds with Harry and Ron all year, but their recent truce had begun to lessen the tensions. There was no reason to make everything worse again. As Draco had pointed out, they couldn't tell anyone anyway because in the newly- undivided-school-wide gossip network would get the news back to the wrong ears before they could stop it.  
  
While Draco had decided not to try to ask Collier for information, he still was not ready to take the last leap and publicly change allegiances. Most of the school assumed that he was still enchanted and blamed his socializing with Hermione on the potion. Collier had been convinced that Hermione was being set up for a fall and the young Death Eater no longer questioned Draco's actions. It was a series of lies that Draco said made him sick to tell.  
  
In the end, though, Hermione had decided that it made little sense to fuss over her relationship with Draco. Whatever it was, or what it was based on, would only become clear over time. And from everything that Draco was saying and doing, it seemed like there would be plenty of time to sort everything out. Draco's affectionate caresses were nothing compared to his kind remarks. Hermione, who had never spent much time on her appearance, was constantly being made to blush as he complimented her every feature. He had a particular soft spot for the fly away, messy hair that Hermione normally tied up. His fingers were forever tangled in its strands, undoing the plaits or buns that she generally wore, while he talked of how much he enjoyed the colour, the feel, and the scent of it. It was very disconcerting sometimes.  
  
The best part of their new closeness, though, was having someone to rely on. She and Draco talked everyday, often spending half an hour curled up in each other's arms recounting their daily adventures in class and out. It was much like her evening chats with Harry and Ron, but there was a sense of being cared for and perhaps even cherished that made these conversations different. Draco was always there to tease her out of a bad mood, or support her in her indignation at some academic error made by a fellow student. Most amazingly, he told her over and over that his time with her was the best part of his day.  
  
Outside of her private life, events were less confusing but just as positive. As the second week of December approached, Hermione was beginning top believe that they were getting closer to being ready to confront Wormtail. The charm she had found to stop a spell from completing was quite complex, but with practice both she and Draco had become more and more capable. The previous weekend, in fact, Draco had managed to interrupt Ron's disarming spell before the other boy had finished saying 'Expelliarmus.'  
  
The other charm, a reversal spell, was not as effective. It didn't seem to have an effect on transfiguration. Though they had tried and tried, spending hours and hours switching beetles to buttons and caterpillars to pipe cleaners, none of the charm's variations could change the objects back. Hermione was afraid that if they left Wormtail partially transformed, it could kill him. Ron rather viciously said that that outcome would suit him fine. However, any change of exonerating Sirius would be lost, as would the information Wormtail knew about Voldemort's plans. Harry and Hermione had convinced Ron to not take that risk, even if it meant putting off the confrontation until they had another solution.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
When the Heads of Houses came around to collect the names of the students staying for the holidays, Hermione, Harry and Ron all signed on as usual. When Hermione told Draco about this, he started to wonder if he could face the idea of going home for the term break. Before he had even had much chance to consider the matter, though, a tersely worded note arrived from Malfoy Manor. His mother wrote that she and Lucius were leaving the country over the holidays for unspecified reasons, and that they felt it would be better if Draco remained at Hogwarts for the break. She wished him a good holiday and promised that his presents would be delivered from wherever she and his father were going to be.  
  
It certainly wasn't the first time that Draco had stayed at the school for the term break, but during the second and fourth year holidays he had been there on Lucius' orders. The first time to watch for any hint of how the Chamber of Secrets was being opened, and then in fourth year to 'socialize' with Durmstrang students. Draco didn't mind that his father wasn't paying much attention to him, nor did the thought of spending holidays away from home bother him. It would postpone the inevitable moment when he would have to stand up and declare himself as being against all that Lucius stood for.  
  
As he spent more time working with Hermione, and by extension with Potter and Weasley, Draco felt his interest in their adventures growing. The research could be deadly dull, however if they didn't do it, the consequences would be just plain deadly. It wasn't a situation he had ever been in before and it certainly added some spice to his life. Of course, Potter was still a maniac with a severe death wish at the best of times, but the seriousness of what he was involved in was not lost on Draco. And from Hermione's tales, this was a pretty minor altercation they were going into – no werewolves, giant spiders, basilisks or killer plant. One exchange on the subject was clear in his mind.  
  
Draco had been working in the library with Hermione when Potter had dropped by for some reason. Unlike Weasley, he didn't seem to come around to protect Hermione's virtue, or whatever bizarre notions filled carrot-top's head, but Potter still showed up now and then to chat about the research. The books on the table where he was perched were all advanced potions textbooks. Potter picked up a stained and battered copy of Moste Potente Potions.  
  
"This brings back memories," he murmured, smiling down at Hermione.  
  
Draco looked at the pair curiously. Hermione was blushing slightly while Potter flicked through the book's pages.  
  
"Perhaps you could have written the author and offered to become an additional illustration on how not to use the potion," Potter continued. " 'And this is an example of why the Polyjuice potion is not used for animal transformation.' "  
  
"What is he talking about, Hermione?" Draco asked, watching her face start to match the red of her school tie.  
  
"A bad experience I had in second year," she said, trying to sound dismissive.  
  
"A bad experience with Polyjuice Potion?" He stared at Hermione and then up at Potter. "You were using Polyjuice Potion in second year?"  
  
"Yeah, part of our attempts to find out something about the Chamber of Secrets. Near waste of time," Potter snorted. "Although we did learn some interesting things about ... people."  
  
Draco snorted. "Good grief, I wish I had had half the adventures you three seem to have gone through. I am so jealous of you sometimes," he said, smiling across the table at Hermione.  
  
"Jealous? Of constant danger and near death?" Potter asked, incredulous.  
  
"Well, yes. I mean, you're the most famous person in the country and you're only my age!"  
  
Harry shook his head and stared down at Draco. His expression was a mixture of amusement and sadness.  
  
"Well, maybe you can take over for me. I'm well past being sick of it all. I'd rather be nobody special and live a normal life than have people staring and pointing at me. And the whole part of my life where I'm the main focus of Voldemort's hatred, for some bizarre reason – I'll trade you that one in an instant."  
  
This time it was Draco's turn to shake his head. Potter was such a snot about his situation. Fame was fame, and meant to be enjoyed and used. Admittedly, nearly dying on a yearly basis wasn't such a good way to live a life, but to whine about everything in his life? It really got up Draco's nose sometimes.  
  
Draco blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes. Too many pages of tiny handwriting and smudged ink were really starting to wear on him. Look across the table, he watched Hermione's bright eyes and smiling lips as she chatted with Potter. Her face was lit up with enthusiasm as she tried to explain the possible uses of a potion that seemed very promising.  
  
Small strands of hair had slipped loose from the bun on the top of her head. They danced around her face as she moved, and Draco's fingers twitched as he restrained himself from reaching across the table. He knew Hermione wouldn't appreciate him showing any signs of their relationship in front of Potter. And really, Draco wasn't interested in the black eye or bloody nose Potter was likely to give him when he found out about Draco's relationship with Hermione.  
  
"So do you think this one will work?"  
  
Draco started when Potter addressed him. He looked up blankly, and then realized that Potter was talking about the Evaginarus Elixir that Hermione had found. It was a spell-reversing potion specifically designed for turning transformations back, and it looked very promising. The only flaw in the plan was that brewing it would take almost three weeks and involved several ingredients that student potion kits didn't hold. When Draco had pointed this out to Hermione, she had just smiled at him.  
  
The two expectant faces across the table reminded Draco that he was supposed to be answering Potter's question.  
  
"I do think it will work," he said slowly. "It's designed to 'turn inside out' shape to shape transformations for living beings. Though the description didn't say Animagus, what else could they mean?"  
  
"Alright then," Potter said. "This is our potion. Let's get it ready as soon as we can. We have the whole holiday to work on it. I checked the lists and I know that Collier, Goyle and Crabbe are all staying, so I have a feeling something is up."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
On the first proper day of holidays, Hermione curled around a cup of coffee at the breakfast table. It had been yet another late night in the clearing and she wasn't entirely sure that she had woken up yet.  
  
After sending off her friends and dorm mates the previous afternoon, she had wrapped up in several warm layers and made her way to the Draco's clearing. They had gone through several of the final stages of the potion, but it meant that the clock read twenty past three when Hermione finally made it into her dorm room.  
  
The secluded spot in the woods had been chosen as their best place for making the potion after Ron had watch Collier sneak into several hiding places and tunnels that they would normally have chosen. Eventually it seemed safer to take the potion right out of the castle.  
  
After Harry had brought her the ingredients, Hermione had had to explain yet another story from her past to Draco. Draco was remarkably calm about the idea of stealing from the Potions' storeroom, though he still made the occasional joke about cats. These jokes often came during their time spent together in the clearing. The complicated procedure required to brew the potion had been handed to Hermione and Draco as the ones with real talent in that area. Harry and Ron took over all the surveillance of Collier and Wormtail's activities.  
  
Their nightly reports were becoming more and more upsetting. Just the night before, they had seen Wormtail inside the castle. Apparently the wizard had finally managed to defeat the wards put on the castle. This only gave Hermione and Draco more incentive to get the potion exactly right.  
  
As she sipped the cooling coffee, Hermione looked across the Great Hall to the Slytherin table. Draco was sitting facing her, wrapped around his coffee mug as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. Hermione grinned as he pushed his fringe out of his eyes and slurped at the mug. Draco sleepy was adorable, she had found out recently. Over the past two weeks, their extremely late nights had left both of them yawning and struggling to stay awake.  
  
Between their homework sessions in the library and potion brewing in woods, Draco had started to insist on a naptime in whatever abandoned classroom they could find. The first evening, Hermione lay curled up with her head against Draco's chest. As she listened to his slow breaths and steady heartbeat, she was sure she would never be able to sleep. But when the insistent bleats of her wake-up charm sounded, Hermione blinked groggy eyes and realized it had been almost an hour since she'd last checked the time.  
  
It was now one of her favourite parts of the day, snuggling up beside Draco and dozing off. They would chat for a little while until it became too difficult to keep their eyes open. Then, when the alarm would sound, they would slowly wake up. Often, while they were lying there, Hermione would feel Draco's lips in her hair. He would stroke her hair and tell her how lucky he felt. If she woke before he did, there was nothing she liked better than to trace the lines of his face, his neck, his collarbone.  
  
The previous night, they had rested together in the abandoned Charms classroom, snuggled in a large pile of Professor Flitwick's practice pillows. It was warm and comfortable, and when the alarm had finally charmed Hermione had been tempted to suggest that they stay in the room a while longer. Unfortunately, there was a potion that needed its final portion of newt liver waiting for them in the clearing. If they missed that step, everything would have had to be started again, and that had been even less appealing that venturing out into the chilly night air. She smiled, remembering the scene that had played out:  
  
Shaking Draco's shoulder gently, she whispered his name.  
  
"Mmmmph, what?" he grumbled. "Few more min'ts, jus' a few."  
  
Hermione smiled as his face screwed up and he turned away from her slightly. Falling back on a proven technique, she slid her hands around his back at waist level. He sighed slightly and leaned back against her. Bending her fingers, Hermione began.  
  
"Yeeearrgg!"  
  
Draco was upright before Hermione could blink. The first time she had found out that he was ticklish she had thought he was exaggerating his sensitivity, but over time it became clear that a few finger twitches on his abdomen could send him into convulsions. It was a handy technique for keeping him in line, since even the threat of a touch could make him cringe.  
  
"That was uncalled for," Draco huffed, glaring down at her. "I was waking up."  
  
Hermione looked up at him, biting her lower lip so she wouldn't break out in a grin. "Of course you were, Draco," she replied. "I'm just in a hurry."  
  
She opened her eyes in attempted innocence. His grumpy expression faded to a smile, and Hermione rose to stand beside him. She tucked her arms around his waist again, this time leaning against his chest. Looking up at his sleepy gray eyes and pale face framed by hair that was currently sticking in about seventeen different directions, she felt her breath catch. This boy had become surprisingly important to her in the past month.  
  
Draco leaned down and kissed her forehead. Slowly sliding his arms away from her shoulders, he stepped back.  
  
"Well, if we're in a hurry, I suppose we have to get going," he said, sounding regretful. "There's at least two hours of work to do out there."  
  
Looking across the table now, she saw the same sweet sleepiness in his face. He looked up and caught her gaze. Their eyes locked and the rest of the Great Hall faded from Hermione's awareness. Magic or not, she thought, this is one of the best parts of my life right now.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Christmas holidays were almost over by the time the potion was finished. They had brewed a large amount, though the book had said they only required a few tablespoons. They had transfigured various animals and objects and found that all of their spells were reversed. As for whether it would work on an Animagus, it was all a matter of trust. As Ron pointed out, it wasn't as if they could practice on Professor McGonagall.  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione sat in the Gryffindor common room making plans. They knew the entrances that Wormtail was using to get into the castle, and had worked out the mostly likely times to intercept his approach. At this point, they just needed to come up with the courage to take the final leap before the school filled with students again. And there had been a new development, which was also spurring them along.  
  
"I still can't quite believe what Dumbledore said," Ron muttered, staring at the row of potion vials on the table. "I really can't believe it. My parents have finally cracked."  
  
"Your parents are doing the right thing," Hermione said. "I think it's wonderful for them to step up and help Draco this way."  
  
"But having him in my house this summer? It's just beyond wrong."  
  
Harry smirked at his friend. "I have to admit I like the thought of us hiding him. Can you see the look on my Aunt and Uncle's faces? 'This is Draco. He's hiding from his evil wizard father. Can he stay with us for the summer?' I think I'd do it just to see Uncle Vernon go right over the edge."  
  
"I don't think that that's going to happen," Hermione pointed out. "Dumbledore is going to be keeping Draco safe at Hogwarts until his father gets put in Azkaban. Then he'll be allowed to leave the castle and go somewhere else safe."  
  
"I don't see why Dumbledore thinks this is all necessary," Ran said. "It's not as if we're putting an advert in the Daily Prophet announcing that Malfoy's switched sides. He's not acting as a spy or anything. He's just going to keep on not being a Death Eater. Not much of a change."  
  
"But he's not going to be able to go home, Harry," she argued. "If his father decides to force his loyalty and Draco says no, then what happens? Lucius Malfoy is not going to be happy about this and the magics that family can use against each other are truly horrible."  
  
"Besides, Malfoy's a bit important in this new version of the plan, strange as it is to say that," Harry put in. "I don't think that any of us can do the spell freeze as fast as he can. And that way each of us can have one action, so there's less risk. Malfoy will stop the transformation, I'll Stupefy the little rat, and then Ron'll administer the potion. We'll haul him to Dumbledore and it's done."  
  
"Exactly, and when it comes out that he was involved in this plan, then everyone will know. At the very least, Collier will know, and he's going to report it to the Death Eaters."  
  
Hermione sat back and smiled, glad that her point was proven. Then she frowned. "Wait a moment, you said that each of us could have an action. I didn't hear my name on the list."  
  
"Well..." Harry and Ron exchanged sheepish looks.  
  
"What did you two do?" Hermione's eyes narrowed.  
  
"It wasn't just us!" Ron cried defensively.  
  
"It wasn't just you," she growled. "Really, so what have you planned and who else is in on this secret plan?"  
  
"It was Malfoy," Harry admitted after a long silence. "We all decided it was too risky to let you come with us. We just want to keep you safe. You can go alert Dumbledore for us."  
  
"Oh, I can, can I? How kind of you to let me have some small part in your grand plan."  
  
She stood and stormed around the table. Turning, hands on her hips, she glared down at the two nervous boys on the couch.  
  
"Well, believe me, this is not how the plan is going to work. And you know what else? I have as much right as any of you to fight this fight. I've proved myself before. So don't even think you can stop me."  
  
With that, she stalked from the room.  
  
Harry looked over at Ron. "I told him it wouldn't work."  
  
"Yeah, he doesn't realize that you can't tell her what to do. Idiot."  
  
"Nah, not an idiot. He's worried about her. It's all wrong, but he actually seems to care about her."  
  
"It's very wrong. I hope he's not getting any ideas."  
  
"Ron," Harry sighed. "I think we're past worrying about that. They're getting awfully close."  
  
"He'd better keep his hands to himself. If he starts moving in on Hermione..."  
  
"Ron, shut up. Let's go back to the plan and put Hermione back in it."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Saturday night came far to quickly for Draco's peace of mind. He had gone through the plan in his head hundreds of times and it never turned out well. The idea of bringing Hermione along was one of his worries, of course. Keeping her safe when she seemed determined to leap head first into danger was impossible, and that truly irritated him. Maybe her so-called best friends could stand by and watch her try to get killed, but it didn't sit well with Draco.  
  
Of course, it had also dawned on him that he was about to enter a confrontation with an adult wizard, a Death Eater no less, who had killed over a dozen people just to save his own skin. This was possibly the stupidest decision he had ever made, Draco realized rationally. This didn't stop him, though from throwing himself into it with all his enthusiasm. It was becoming strangely enjoyable to take risks and make stupid choices when they were the right choices in Hermione's eyes.  
  
While Hermione's approval was enjoyable, the people who had come forward to give him help and support since the decision to abandon his father and his upbringing had been astounding. The old headmaster, Dumbledore, had set up a network of students and teachers who were providing safe places to stay, protective charms and wards, and many other ways of keeping Draco safe from his new enemies. Even Pansy had sent an owl promising that she and her friends were ready to take Draco in over the summer holidays, and offer him any protection he needed during the school year. Having watched Pansy, Regina, and Millicent Bulstrode during their cat-fighting years, Draco knew that the girls would be a better bodyguard than any trained fighting wizard.  
  
The clocks in the Slytherin common room chimed quarter of nine as Draco fastened his winter cloak around his throat. Checking that he had all the supplies needed, he made his way out of the dungeons. In a few minutes he was standing in front of the Great Hall doors. Rapid, approaching footsteps warned him that the others were on their way.  
  
"Quick, Malfoy, we've got to get moving," Weasley panted as the trio came to a halt.  
  
"We've got to get to Dumbledore's Office. The headmaster is nowhere to be seen, and Wormtail's on his way there," Hermione explained.  
  
"C'mon, Malfoy, let's go," Potter called over his shoulder, already moving away.  
  
Draco followed at a quick trot. They made their way as quickly as possible to the statue that guarded the headmaster's doorway. Potter pulled out the parchment map from his pocket and unfolded it. Putting his finger to the map, he cursed.  
  
"Dammit, he's already in there. We're going to have to get in there and stop him."  
  
"The password's Blood Lolly."  
  
Three heads turned to stare at Draco. "I was in there not two days ago, remember. Professor Snape told me the password in case I ever had to get to the Headmaster in a hurry."  
  
Weasley turned to the gargoyle. "Blood Lolly," he said clearly, then jumped into the air in surprise when the gargoyle moved away to reveal the staircase.  
  
As soon as the stairs were clear, Weasley lead the charge up to the office. Draco followed Hermione through the doorway the top of the stairs just as Weasley let out a loud curse. Looking down, Draco saw a small chubby brown rat racing for the doorway. He made a lunge for the rodent, but it made it across the landing and was heading down the stairs before Draco could even kneel to the floor.  
  
Immediately, he turned and started running down the stairs. Reaching the bottom, he stared around the hallway. There was no sign of which direction the rat had chosen, no movement behind any of the tapestries hanging from the walls. Hermione came rushing down a moment later, gasping out directions.  
  
"He went left and to the main staircases. Harry doesn't think that there are any hidden passages that way, so Wormtail's probably headed straight to the main doors. We can get ahead of him if we use the stairs that way."  
  
She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the corridor straight ahead. They ran down the hall then turned down a staircase to the right. Clattering down the stairs, Draco could hear the sounds of Potter and Weasley following them. He squeezed Hermione's hand and glanced over at her quickly. Her brown hair was flying behind her as she focused intently on the stairs. In her free hand was the parchment where they had written the descriptions of the charms they might use. Draco had an identical parchment in his pocket, along with a vial of elixir.  
  
As they rounded the final turn in the staircase, Draco saw the main doors of the castle standing slighting ajar. It seemed that the rat had re- transformed to manipulate the large doors. Draco ran forward, feeling a stitch forming in his side, and pulled the door further open. The other three ran outside, and then Draco pulled the doors closed in the hopes of closing off a possible escape route.  
  
Three cries of "Lumos" rang out in the night air. The three ahead spread out and searched by the light of their wands. Draco felt his heavy sweater sticking to his back under his cloak. He saw a dark shape against the white, a small animal struggling through the deep, soggy snow. As he watched, Weasley's long legs carried him within twenty feet of the rat. The redheaded boy shouted, incoherently at first, until he finally managed to complete the spell. A blue-white flash shot from his wand, and as Draco watched, the rat began to transform into a man.  
  
A man who turned on Weasley and jumped at him with a yell. Hermione and Potter rushed up, Draco a few steps behind. The man thrashed and yelled in Weasley's grip, his arms and legs striking out. Ron's wand went flying out of the struggle at one point, and the man and boy rolled over and over, each attempting to grab the wand. Potter leapt in and grabbed the wand. Hermione followed and tried to grab at the older man's legs, while Potter stumbled back as Wormtail's hand reached for his ankles.  
  
Draco stopped a few steps away from the struggle, leveling his wand. His heart was beating so fast he was afraid it might come out of his chest. If only Weasley and Hermione would just move so he could stupefy the older wizard.  
  
Just then a flailing leg hit Hermione in the knee. With a cry of pain, she fell to the ground. Draco made a move towards her, but Potter put a hand out.  
  
"You can't Draco. Just wait until we can stun him."  
  
"She's hurt," Draco shouted. "Let me by. She's hurt."  
  
Potter between Draco and the struggling men on the ground. He raised his wand. "Stupefy!"  
  
The struggle stopped. Ron pushed the limp body off his chest and slowly stood. "About time, Harry. That guy fights dirty. I think I need to get checked for rabies... rat bites," he explained, putting his hand out.  
  
Draco ignored the redhead as he rushed to Hermione's side. She had rolled over onto her back, and he dropped to his knees beside her. Sliding an arm behind her shoulders, he propped her into a sitting position. She was pale but flashed him a quick grin before looking down at her legs.  
  
"My knee's not feeling very good," she said faintly. "I something snapped when he hit it."  
  
Draco stroked her hair gently. "We'll get you to Madame Pomfrey as soon as possible. Don't worry. Just relax, lean on me."  
  
He leaned over and tipped Hermione's chin up with his free hand.  
  
"And promise you'll never do that again," he asked with a faint smile.  
  
"Do what?" she asked.  
  
"Make my heart stop," he said. "Honestly, when you fell down, I thought I'd never breath again. I can't face the idea of you getting hurt. You're too important to me."  
  
Hermione smiled slightly and turned her head to rest her cheek against his shoulder. "You shouldn't say things like that," she whispered, her eyes closing. "People will start thinking you've gone soft."  
  
"Only around you, honey, only for you."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
A few hours later, Hermione sat in the infirmary, surrounded by a crowd of worried looking faces.  
  
"She's going to be fine, right?" Ron asked.  
  
"For the twelfth time, Mr. Weasley, your friend will be just fine as long as she gets some rest. Which means that you should leave her alone."  
  
The nurse glared at Ron, then turned to glare at the other people in the room.  
  
"That goes for all of you, in fact. Even you, Headmaster. I want all of you out of here in fifteen minutes."  
  
Head high, she swept from the room. As soon as the door swing shut, Hermione turned to Harry.  
  
"What happened? It all worked out? We didn't even need all those potions and charms, did we?"  
  
"Actually, Miss Granger, your research was very helpful. As you had anticipated, Mr. Pettigrew did transform as part of his attempts to escape. Your friends reacted very quickly and saved us all the trouble of having to chase him through the castle a second time."  
  
"Oh Hermione, it was great," Ron broke in. "It went just as we planned. Malfoy stopped the transformation so quickly that Wormtail was only just starting to get furry. I threw the potion at him and it worked exactly like you said."  
  
"Yeah, he turned right back into the cringing little creep we met in third year. I stupefied him and then the Professors restrained him so he couldn't try that trick again," Harry finished. "It was really something."  
  
Hermione took in the grins on the faces of her best friends. The boys were so proud of their adventure, as they should be. It was a great accomplishment to bring in such an important Death Eater. Dumbledore's voice broke into her thoughts.  
  
"I have Professors Snape and McGonagall accompanying Mr. Pettigrew to the Ministry of Magic. There they will hand him over to the Aurors for interrogation. I have friends in Magical Law Enforcement who will guarantee that this does not become a repeat of last year's disaster with young Mr. Crouch.  
  
"I expect the four of you will want to discuss these events with your friends, but I must ask you to keep these events quiet until such time as I can speak with you again. I must admit I admire your decision to perform this intervention during the holidays. I do wish that you had spoken with myself or another teacher about what was happening, but I realize that this might not always seem possible."  
  
Dumbledore smiled down on four rather shamed faces. Then, patting Hermione's shoulder gently, he turned to the boys at the foot of the bed.  
  
"Please respect Madame Pomfrey's request – you have another eight minutes by my count, but then Miss Granger deserves her rest."  
  
As the Headmaster swept from the room, Draco sat on the left hand side of Hermione's bed. Ron glared at Draco, but looked away when Harry punched him in the side. Harry leaned down and kissed Hermione on the forehead, then squeezed her shoulder.  
  
"I'll be back tomorrow morning. Try to get lots of sleep – bone healing is pretty exhausting."  
  
Turning away, he nudged Ron again. The redhead glanced at Draco again, but then approached Hermione. Awkwardly, he bent down and bussed her cheek. Hermione grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze.  
  
"Great job tonight, Ron. You deserve a giant celebratory feast – but first a good night's sleep. You look as tired as I feel."  
  
Ron smiled and squeezed her hand back. With a quick glance at the Slytherin across the bed, he stood.  
  
"I'll see you in the morning, 'Mione. Sleep well."  
  
Draco watched as the other boys left the room. Looking down at Hermione, he slid his hand over hers. She gripped it tightly, and then leaned forward to pull him into a tight hug.  
  
"I'm so glad that's over," he whispered into her hair. "I don't want to see you in danger ever again."  
  
She kissed his cheek, then his nose, pulling back slightly in his embrace. "I think you'll have to get used to it. I can't not get involved in these events. You know that."  
  
"I guess so," he said reluctantly. "I suppose this means that I'll have to brush up on my fighting skills some more." Hermione looked up at him, confused. "I mean, if you're going to insist on risking your neck, I figure I'll have to tag along to make sure you make through in one piece."  
  
Draco smiled broadly then leaned in. As his lips met hers, Hermione could feel herself smiling too.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The new term began and the school filled with students again. Crabbe, Goyle and Collier had been taken out of Hogwarts by their parents, but few people even noticed. Draco was relieved by their departure, though he was still waiting for some reaction from his parents. He hadn't heard anything from them since his presents have arrived Christmas morning. The fact that there had been no word since the other three Slytherins had been pulled from the school suddenly was worrying him a little.  
  
On the other hand, he knew that he was safe at Hogwarts. In fact, the only danger he was worrying about was Professor Snape's potion class. The Potion's Master had announced during the previous class that he felt that the friendship potion experiment had resolved itself satisfactorily. It was his intention to administer the antidotes to those few partners who still hadn't taken it.  
  
This was scaring Draco. He and Hermione had never taken the antidote, for some reason known only to Snape. And though many of the pairs who had done so had found that it made no effect on their newfound friendships, Draco was still worried that it might change what was between him and Hermione. They had jokingly discussed the possibility that the strange blue liquid had in fact been a love potion, but had dismissed it as impossible. Still, what if the affection that Hermione seemed to feel towards him disappeared when she took the antidote?  
  
Taking a deep breath, he marched resolutely into the Potions classroom. He made his way to the desk where Hermione sat waiting. From the broad, welcoming smile on her face, she apparently did not share his fears. He sat down and started unpacking his bag. A sudden blow to his shoulder made Draco look up.  
  
"So are we on for a rematch?" Weasley was standing beside his desk. "I have a reputation to defend you know."  
  
"What, as the most easily distracted chess player in all of Hogwarts?" Draco drawled. "I suppose I owe Regina something for helping me trounce you so easily. Not that I need help, your strategies stink, Weasley."  
  
"I was a little off my game last night," Ron admitted. "But how do you know it wasn't just a ploy to make you feel superior so that I can thoroughly humiliate you tonight?"  
  
"I doubt you can make plans that complex," Draco shot back. "Save what little cunning you have for the chess board."  
  
"See you at eight."  
  
Weasley wandered off, and Hermione turned to Draco with a glare.  
  
"You'd think you could try to be a little civil. You two don't really hate each other anymore, you don't have to keep talking like that," Hermione said. Then a worried look crossed her face.  
  
"You don't hate each other anymore, right?"  
  
"I'm not about to take him home to Mother," Draco said with a grin, "but he's not actually that bad. Can't play chess to save his life, but he's got one or two redeeming features."  
  
Just then Professor Snape walked into the room, ending all chance for conversation. He walked to the front of the classroom and lifted a tray of goblets from his desk.  
  
"Alright, before we begin our work on the medicinal properties of the Elros plant I want to administer the remaining antidotes. Don't worry, as your classmates can attest, they will not affect you physically in any way."  
  
The professor began to walk through the class, distributing goblets of sweet-smelling pink liquid. He handed the last dose to Blaise Zabini and returned the tray to his desk.  
  
"Drink up," he encouraged. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy."  
  
Draco lowered his hand. "Professor, Hermione and I need antidote too."  
  
"Actually, Mr. Malfoy, you and Miss Granger do not need any antidote. The Fidelitas potion, which you drank –"  
  
Draco exchanged surprised glances with Hermione; this was not the name of the potion they were supposed to have made.  
  
"–Is actually a time limited potion. It should have worn off sometime in October. The effects may have been slightly different than that of what you should have brewed, but from my observations, you both showed all the signs of being under the influence of the potion.  
  
"I have given you both Acceptable on this project – it would have been higher given the quality of the potion, if it hadn't been the wrong potion," Professor Snape added, walking into his office to collect supplies.  
  
Draco winced slightly at the sarcastic tone in the professor's voice. Then he began to realize the implications of what had been said. He looked over at Hermione, who was looking back at him.  
  
"So this is all real?" she whispered. "No magic?"  
  
"Not that kind of magic," Draco agreed, reaching for her hand and kissing it. "Though it still feels magical to me." 


End file.
